Читать книгу The Essential Works of William Harrison Ainsworth - William Harrison Ainsworth - Страница 113

When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown,

He carved his name on the dungeon stone;

Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall,

“You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val,

With your chisel so fine, tra la!”

“This S wants a little deepening,” mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; “ay, that’s better.”

Du Val was hang’d, and the next who came

On the selfsame stone inscribed his name:

“Aha!” quoth the dubsman, with devilish glee,

“Tom Waters your doom is the triple tree! With your chisel so fine, tra la!”

“Tut, tut, tut,” he cried, “what a fool I am to be sure! I ought to have cut John, not Jack. However, it don’t signify. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P.

Within that dungeon lay Captain Bew,

Rumbold and Whitney — a jolly crew!

All carved their names on the stone, and all

Share the fate of the brave Du Val!

With their chisels so fine, tra la!

“Save us!” continued the apprentice, “I hope this beam doesn’t resemble the Newgate stone; or I may chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing on the Tyburn tree for my pains. No fear o’ that. — Though if my name should become as famous as theirs, it wouldn’t much matter. The prospect of the gallows would never deter me from taking to the road, if I were so inclined.

Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold,

Rattled their chains in that dungeon old;

Of all that number there ‘scaped not one

Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.

With his chisel so fine, tra la!

“There!” cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance — “that’ll do. Claude du Val himself couldn’t have carved it better — ha! ha!”

The name inscribed upon the beam (of which, as it has been carefully preserved by the subsequent owners of Mr. Wood’s habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was

“I’ve half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman,” cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket.

“The devil you have!” thundered a voice from behind, that filled the apprentice with dismay. “Come down, sirrah, and I’ll teach you how to deface my walls in future. Come down, I say, instantly, or I’ll make you.” Upon which, Mr. Wood caught hold of Jack’s leg, and dragged him off the bench.

“And so you’ll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?” continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly — “rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose.”

“Yes, I will,” replied Jack sullenly, “if you beat me in that way.”

Amazed at the boy’s assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, “Jack, Jack, you’ll come to be hanged!”

“Better be hanged than hen-pecked,” retorted the lad with a malicious grin.

“What do you mean by that, sirrah?” cried Wood, reddening with anger. “Do you dare to insinuate that Mrs. Wood governs me?”

“It’s plain you can’t govern yourself, at all events,” replied Jack coolly; “but, be that as it may, I won’t be struck for nothing.”

“Nothing,” echoed Wood furiously. “Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. But I’ll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition —”

“You may do as you please, master,” interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; “but I wouldn’t advise you to lay hands on me again.”

Mr. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. So, by way of gaining time, he resolved to question him further.

“Where did you learn the song I heard just now?” he demanded, in an authoritative tone.

“At the Black Lion in our street,” replied Jack, without hesitation.

“The worst house in the neighbourhood — the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves,” groaned Wood. “And who taught it you — the landlord, Joe Hind?”

“No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion,” answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. “It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam.”

“A white wall is a fool’s paper, Jack — remember that,” rejoined Wood. “Pretty company for an apprentice to keep! — pretty houses for an apprentice to frequent! Why, the rascal you mention is a notorious house-breaker. He was tried at the last Old Bailey sessions; and only escaped the gallows by impeaching his accomplices. Jonathan Wild brought him off.”

“Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master?” inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more respectful demeanour.

“I’ve seen him some years ago, I believe,” answered Wood; “and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again.”

“A short man, isn’t he, about your height, Sir — with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox’s?”

“Hem!” replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; “the description’s not amiss. But why do you ask?”

“Because —” stammered the boy.

“Speak out — don’t be alarmed,” said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. “If you’ve done wrong, confess it, and I’ll forgive you!”

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven!” returned Jack, bursting into tears; “for I’m afraid I’ve done very wrong. Do you know this, Sir?” he added, taking a key from his pocket.

“Where did you find it!” asked Wood.

“It was given me by a man who was drinking t’other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild.”

“Where did he get it?” inquired Wood, in surprise.

“That I can’t say. But he promised to give me a couple of guineas if I’d ascertain whether it fitted your locks.”

“Zounds!” exclaimed Wood; “it’s my old master-key. This key,” he added, taking it from the boy, “was purloined from me by your father, Jack. What he intended to do with it is of little consequence now. But before he suffered at Tyburn, he charged your mother to restore it. She lost it in the Mint. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her.”

“He must,” exclaimed Jack, hastily; “but only let me have it till to-morrow, and if I don’t entrap him in a snare from which, with all his cunning, he shall find it difficult to escape, my name’s not Jack Sheppard.”

“I see through your design, Jack,” returned the carpenter, gravely; “but I don’t like under-hand work. Even when you’ve a knave to deal with, let your actions be plain, and above-board. That’s my maxim; and it’s the maxim of every honest man. It would be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan Wild to justice. But I can’t consent to the course you would pursue — at least, not till I’ve given it due consideration. In regard to yourself, you’ve had a very narrow escape. Wild’s intention, doubtless, was to use you as far as he found necessary, and then to sell you. Let this be a caution to you in future — with whom, and about what you deal. We’re told, that ‘Whoso is partner with a thief hateth his own soul.’ Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well. You promise to become a first-rate workman. But you want one quality, without which all others are valueless. You want industry — you want steadiness. Idleness is the key of beggary, Jack. If you don’t conquer this disgraceful propensity in time, you’ll soon come to want; and then nothing can save you. Be warned by your father’s fate. As you brew so must you drink. I’ve engaged to watch over you as a son, and I will do so as far as I’m able; but if you neglect my advice, what chance have I of benefitting you? On one point I’ve made up my mind — you shall either obey me, or leave me. Please yourself. Here are your indentures, if you choose to seek another master.”

“I will obey you, master — indeed I will!” implored Jack, seriously alarmed at the carpenter’s calm displeasure.

“We shall see. Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you’ve not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. It must be sent home this evening. She leaves town to-morrow.”

“It shall be ready in two hours,” answered Jack, seizing a piece of wood and a plane; “it isn’t more than four o’clock. I’ll engage to get the job done by six. I didn’t expect you home before that hour, Sir.”

“Ah, Jack,” said Wood, shaking his head, “where there’s a will there’s a way. You can do anything you please. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell.”

“I’m sure I understand the business of a carpenter much better than he does,” replied Jack, adroitly adjusting the board, and using the plane with the greatest rapidity.

“Perhaps,” replied Wood, doubtfully.

“Thames was always your favourite,” observed Jack, as he fastened another piece of wood on the teeth of the iron stopper.

“I’ve made no distinction between you, hitherto,” answered Wood; “nor shall I do so, unless I’m compelled.”

“I’ve had the hard work to do, at all events,” rejoined Jack, “But I won’t complain. I’d do anything for Thames Darrell.”

“And Thames Darrell would do anything for you, Jack,” replied a blithe voice. “What’s the matter, father!” continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. “Has Jack displeased you? If so, overlook his fault this once. I’m sure he’ll do his best to content you. Won’t you, Jack?”

“That I will,” answered Sheppard, eagerly.

“When it thunders, the thief becomes honest,” muttered Wood.

“Can I help you, Jack?” asked Thames, taking up a plane.

“No, no, let him alone,” interposed Wood. “He has undertaken to finish this job by six o’clock, and I wish to see whether he’ll be as good as his word.”

“He’ll have hard work to do it by that time, father,” remonstrated Thames; “you’d better let me help him.”

“On no account,” rejoined Wood peremptorily. “A little extra exertion will teach him the advantage of diligence at the proper season. Lost ground must be regained. I need scarcely ask whether you’ve executed your appointed task, my dear? You’re never behindhand.”

Thames turned away at the question, which he felt might be construed into a reproach. But Sheppard answered for him.

“Darrell’s job was done early this morning,” he said; “and if I’d attended to his advice, the packing-case would have been finished at the same time.”

“You trusted too much to your own skill, Jack,” rejoined Thames. “If I could work as fast as you, I might afford to be as idle. See how he gets on, father,” he added, appealing to Wood: “the box seems to grow under his hands.”

“You’re a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames,” rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at his adopted son, whose head he gently patted; “and give promise of a glorious manhood.”

Thames Darrell was, indeed, a youth of whom a person of far greater worldly consequence than the worthy carpenter might have been justly proud. Though a few months younger than his companion Jack Sheppard, he was half a head taller, and much more robustly formed. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. In Darrell’s open features, frankness and honour were written in legible characters; while, in Jack’s physiognomy, cunning and knavery were as strongly imprinted. In all other respects they differed as materially. Jack could hardly be accounted good-looking: Thames, on the contrary, was one of the handsomest boys possible. Jack’s complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell’s as fresh and bright as a rose. Jack’s mouth was coarse and large; Darrell’s small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty. Jack’s nose was broad and flat; Darrell’s straight and fine as that of Antinous. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth. Darrell’s eyes were of that clear gray which it is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and modish peruke from his adoptive father, fell in thick glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack’s close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet-shape we have noticed, to his head.

While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he might not belie the carpenter’s favourable prediction, Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder placed against the wall, and, springing with the agility of an ape upon a sort of frame, contrived to sustain short spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for a piece of wood required in the work on which he was engaged. Being in a great hurry, he took little heed where he set his feet; and a board giving way, he must have fallen, if he had not grasped a large plank laid upon the transverse beam immediately over his head.

“Take care, Jack,” shouted Thames, who witnessed the occurrence; “that plank isn’t properly balanced. You’ll have it down.”

But the caution came too late. Sheppard’s weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. The plank hung over his head. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent.

“Get from under it, Jack!” vociferated Thames. “I can’t hold it much longer — it’ll break my wrist. Down we come!” he exclaimed, letting go the plank, which fell with a crash, and leaping after Sheppard, who had rolled off the frame.

All this was the work of a minute.

“No bones broken, I hope,” said Thames, laughing at Jack, who limped towards the bench, rubbing his shins as he went.

“All right,” replied Sheppard, with affected indifference.

“It’s a mercy you both escaped!” ejaculated Wood, only just finding his tongue. “I declare I’m all in a cold sweat. How came you, Sir,” he continued, addressing Sheppard, “to venture upon that frame. I always told you some accident would happen.”

“Don’t scold him, father,” interposed Thames; “he’s been frightened enough already.”

“Well, well, since you desire it, I’ll say no more,” returned Wood. “You hay’n’t hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?” he added, anxiously.

“Only sprained it a little, that’s all,” answered Thames; “the pain will go off presently.”

“Then you are hurt,” cried the carpenter in alarm. “Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. She has an excellent remedy for a sprain. And do you, Jack, attend to your work, and mind you don’t get into further mischief.”

“Hadn’t Jack better go with us?” said Thames. “His shin may need rubbing.”

“By no means,” rejoined Wood, hastily. “A little suffering will do him good. I meant to give him a drubbing. That bruise will answer the same purpose.”

“Thames,” said Sheppard in a low voice, as he threw a vindictive glance at the carpenter, “I shan’t forget this. You’ve saved my life.”

“Pshaw! you’d do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. It’ll be your turn to save mine next.”

“True, and I shan’t be easy till my turn arrives.”

“I tell you what, Jack,” whispered Thames, who had noticed Sheppard’s menacing glance, and dreaded some further indiscretion on his part, “if you really wish to oblige me, you’ll get that packing-case finished by six o’clock. You can do it, if you will.”

“And I will, if I can, depend upon it,” answered Sheppard, with a laugh.

So saying, he manfully resumed his work; while Wood and Thames quitted the room, and went down stairs.