The man in black lifted the gla.s.s up to his mouth, and, in doing so, let the spoon fall.

"But what has this to do with the main question?" said I; "I am waiting here to fight against the Pope."

"Come, Hunter," said the companion of the man in the snuff-coloured coat, "get up, and fight for the Pope."

"I don't care for the young fellow," said the man in the snuff-coloured coat.

"I know you don't," said the other, "so get up, and serve him out."

"I could serve out three like him," said the man in the snuff-coloured coat.

"So much the better for you," said the other, "the present work will be all the easier for you; get up, and serve him out at once."

The man in the snuff-coloured coat did not stir.

"Who shows the white feather now?" said the simple-looking man.

"He! he! he!" t.i.ttered the man in black.

"Who told you to interfere?" said the Radical, turning ferociously towards the simple-looking man; "say another word, and I'll . . . " "And you!" said he, addressing himself to the man in black, "a pretty fellow you to turn against me, after I had taken your part! I tell you what, you may fight for yourself. I'll see you and your Pope in the pit of Eldon, before I fight for either of you, so make the most of it."

"Then you won't fight?" said I.

"Not for the Pope," said the Radical; "I'll see the Pope--"

"Dear me!" said I, "not fight for the Pope, whose religion you would turn to, if you were inclined for any! I see how it is, you are not fond of fighting; but I'll give you another chance--you were abusing the Church of England just now: I'll fight for it--will you fight against it?"

"Come, Hunter," said the other, "get up, and fight against the Church of England."

"I have no particular quarrel against the Church of England," said the man in the snuff-coloured coat, "my quarrel is with the aristocracy. If I said anything against the Church, it was merely for a bit of corollary, as Master William Cobbett would say; the quarrel with the Church belongs to this fellow in black; so let him carry it on. However," he continued suddenly, "I won't slink from the matter either; it shall never be said by the fine fellows on the quay of New York, that I wouldn't fight against the Church of England. So down with the beggarly aristocracy, the Church, and the Pope, to the bottom of the pit of Eldon, and may the Pope fall first, and the others upon him."

Thereupon, dashing his hat on the table, he placed himself in an att.i.tude of offence, and rushed forward. He was, as I have said before, a powerful fellow, and might have proved a dangerous antagonist, more especially to myself, who, after my recent encounter with the Flaming Tinman, and my wrestlings with the evil one, was in anything but fighting order. Any collision, however, was prevented by the landlord, who, suddenly appearing, thrust himself between us. "There shall be no fighting here," said he; "no one shall fight in this house, except it be with myself; so if you two have anything to say to each other, you had better go into the field behind the house. But, you fool," said he, pushing Hunter violently on the breast, "do you know whom you are going to tackle with?--this is the young chap that beat Blazing Bosville, only as late as yesterday, in Mumpers' Dingle. Grey Moll told me all about it last night, when she came for some brandy for her husband, who, she said, had been half killed; and she described the young man to me so closely, that I knew him at once, that is, as soon as I saw how his left hand was bruised, for she told me he was a left-hand hitter. Ar'n't it all true, young man? Ar'n't you he that beat Flaming Bosville in Mumpers' Dingle?"

"I never beat Flaming Bosville," said I, "he beat himself. Had he not struck his hand against a tree, I shouldn't be here at the present moment." "Hear! hear!" said the landlord; "now that's just as it should be; I like a modest man, for, as the parson says, nothing sits better upon a young man than modesty. I remember, when I was young, fighting with Tom of Hopton, the best man that ever pulled off coat in England. I remember, too, that I won the battle; for I happened to hit Tom of Hopton in the mark, as he was coming in, so that he lost his wind, and falling squelch on the ground, do ye see, he lost the battle, though I am free to confess that he was a better man than myself; indeed, the best man that ever fought in England; yet still I won the battle, as every customer of mine, and everybody within twelve miles round, has heard over and over again. Now, Mr. Hunter, I have one thing to say, if you choose to go into the field behind the house, and fight the young man, you can. I'll back him for ten pounds; but no fighting in my kitchen--because why? I keeps a decent kind of an establishment."

"I have no wish to fight the young man," said Hunter; "more especially as he has nothing to say for the aristocracy. If he chose to fight for them, indeed--but he won't, I know: for I see he's a decent, respectable young man; and, after all, fighting is a blackguard way of settling a dispute; so I have no wish to fight; however, there is one thing I'll do," said he, uplifting his fist, "I'll fight this fellow in black here for half-a-crown, or for nothing, if he pleases; it was he that got up the last dispute between me and the young man, with his Pope and his nonsense; so I will fight him for anything he pleases, and perhaps the young man will be my second; whilst you--"

"Come, Doctor," said the landlord, "or whatsoever you be, will you go into the field with Hunter? I'll second you, only you must back yourself. I'll lay five pounds on Hunter, if you are inclined to back yourself; and will help you to win it as far, do you see, as a second can; because why? I always likes to do the fair thing."

"Oh! I have no wish to fight," said the man in black, hastily; "fighting is not my trade. If I have given any offence, I beg anybody's pardon."

"Landlord," said I, "what have I to pay?"

"Nothing at all," said the landlord; "glad to see you. This is the first time that you have been at my house, and I never charge new customers, at least customers such as you, anything for the first draught. You'll come again, I dare say; shall always be glad to see you. I won't take it,"

said he, as I put sixpence on the table; "I won't take it."

"Yes, you shall," said I; "but not in payment for anything I have had myself: it shall serve to pay for a jug of ale for that gentleman," said I, pointing to the simple-looking individual; "he is smoking a poor pipe.

I do not mean to say that a pipe is a bad thing; but a pipe without ale, do you see--"

"Bravo!" said the landlord, "that's just the conduct I like."

"Bravo!" said Hunter. "I shall be happy to drink with the young man whenever I meet him at New York, where, do you see, things are better managed than here."

"If I have given offence to anybody," said the man in black, "I repeat that I ask pardon,--more especially to the young gentleman, who was perfectly right to stand up for his religion, just as I--not that I am of any particular religion, no more than this honest gentleman here," bowing to Hunter; "but I happen to know something of the Catholics--several excellent friends of mine are Catholics--and of a surety the Catholic religion is an ancient religion, and a widely-extended religion, though it certainly is not a universal religion, but it has of late made considerable progress, even amongst those nations who have been particularly opposed to it--amongst the Prussians and the Dutch, for example, to say nothing of the English; and then, in the East, amongst the Persians, amongst the Armenians."

"The Armenians," said I; "Oh dear me, the Armenians--"

"Have you anything to say about these people, sir?" said the man in black, lifting up his gla.s.s to his mouth.

"I have nothing farther to say," said I, "than that the roots of Ararat are occasionally found to be deeper than those of Rome."

"There's half-a-crown broke," said the landlord, as the man in black let fall the gla.s.s, which was broken to pieces on the floor. "You will pay me the damage, friend, before you leave this kitchen. I like to see people drink freely in my kitchen, but not too freely, and I hate breakages; because why? I keeps a decent kind of an establishment."

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIX

The Dingle--Give them Ale--Not over Complimentary--America--Many People--Washington--Promiscuous Company--Language of the Roads--The Old Women--Numerals--The Man in Black.

The public-house where the scenes which I have attempted to describe in the preceding chapters took place, was at the distance of about two miles from the dingle. The sun was sinking in the west by the time I returned to the latter spot. I found Belle seated by a fire, over which her kettle was suspended. During my absence she had prepared herself a kind of tent, consisting of large hoops covered over with tarpaulin, quite impenetrable to rain, however violent. "I am glad you are returned,"

said she, as soon as she perceived me; "I began to be anxious about you.

Did you take my advice?"

"Yes," said I; "I went to the public-house and drank ale, as you advised me; it cheered, strengthened, and drove away the horror from my mind--I am much beholden to you."

"I knew it would do you good," said Belle, "I remembered that when the poor women in the great house were afflicted with hysterics, and fearful imaginings, the surgeon, who was a good, kind man, used to say, 'Ale, give them ale, and let it be strong.'"

"He was no advocate for tea, then?" said I.

"He had no objection to tea; but he used to say, 'Everything in its season.' Shall we take ours now?--I have waited for you."

"I have no objection," said I; "I feel rather heated, and at present should prefer tea to ale--'Everything in its season,' as the surgeon said."

Thereupon Belle prepared tea, and, as we were taking it, she said, "What did you see and hear at the public-house?"

"Really," said I, "you appear to have your full portion of curiosity; what matters it to you what I saw and heard at the public-house?"

"It matters very little to me," said Belle; "I merely inquired of you, for the sake of a little conversation--you were silent, and it is uncomfortable for two people to sit together without opening their lips--at least I think so."

"One only feels uncomfortable," said I, "in being silent, when one happens to be thinking of the individual with whom one is in company. To tell you the truth, I was not thinking of my companion, but of certain company with whom I had been at the public-house."

"Really, young man," said Belle, "you are not over complimentary; but who may this wonderful company have been--some young . . .?" and here Belle stopped.

"No," said I, "there was no young person--if person you were going to say. There was a big portly landlord, whom I dare say you have seen; a noisy savage Radical, who wanted at first to fasten upon me a quarrel about America, but who subsequently drew in his horns; then there was a strange fellow, a prowling priest, I believe, whom I have frequently heard of, who at first seemed disposed to side with the Radical against me, and afterwards with me against the Radical. There, you know my company, and what took place."

"Was there no one else?" said Belle.