LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 141, 14 November 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

TOO LATE FOR THE COACH. ( Concluded.) ThisMr BroAvn did not accept forfearof being called on to pay for a fresh alloAvancc, lint thereof the two combatants partook lovingly. He began to be uneasy, and to wonder Avhy the gig did not arri\ r e, and, being disgusted with his companions, Avent on until lie came to the steep and long approach of the narrow canal bridge at Maghull. It had iioav become almost dark; he heard the rattle of Avheels in close approach, and the sound of the horn of one of the tAvo opposition coaches then running betAveen Lancaster and Liverpool. It Avas galloping at its highest speed, and close upon it Avas the other coach. The contest Avas Avhich should first gain the bridge, not wide enough for both, and barely for one, and a foot passenger. Both rushed on, regardless of danger, and it Avas by a narrow chance that one preceded the other merely by its oavu length, so that lives Avere saved, although the Avheels of the tAvo coaches scraped the parapet on either side. Poor Mr BroAvn was about the middle of the road up to the bridge. Had he been on the summit, he Avould inevitably have been lost to his country and friends ; as it was, he had a button knocked off his best coat by the too near contact of the Avheels. He could not tell Avhich coach did it, and therefore would be able to make no claim ; this he much regretted. Ho Avas getting out of heart and spirits ; he wondered why the gig did not appear. On several occasions, as sounds of coming Avheels reached him, he fondly hoped it might prove to be for him, but as often Avas disappointed. Once, Avhen he Avas most hopeful, it proved to be a spring-cart or shandry, Avith a party of merry mourners returning from a funeral—who being, as not uncommonly is the case, rather elevated, gave him a playful cut Avith their driving-whip for not getting out of the way. It Avas iioav getting dark, and as he passed the cottages on the roadside all Avas still except the yelping of some house-dog disturbed by his footfall. Where a light did appear, it Avas from the upper chamber of the dAvclling, and betokened a sick-room. So he passed on to Aughton village and church, and soon after entered the outskirts of the next quaint old toAvn of Ormskirk, the churchyard being the ancient burialplace of the Stanleys. It was past eleven o’clock, and it seemed that all the inhabitants Avere in bed.

The night was quite dark, but now and then varied by occasional flashes of lightning, which made the intervals more dark. He was certain that a storm was impending. The clouds gathered in masses; it must rain, and where could he find sheltei ?—clothed, too, in summer attire only ! This he keenly felt, for it was now cold. At length peals of thunder succeeded each other rapidly, and flashes of lightning immediately preceding the thunder announced the closeness of the irruption, and great was the disturbance in the heavens. A sudden light fell on the surface of the rough paving stones, which were glazed by the rain, and shone out as bright as silver. The rain descended not in drops, but in sheets of water, deluging everything. He was now in the town ; no house was open as he walked through its narrow streets, and the surcharged waterpipes threatened to make bad worse by spouting on him. He found himself near the porch of a fair-sized sort of house with closed shutters, and on one side a covered passage, which promised him some sort of shelter. Into this he crept, half drowned, and availed himself of the cover it afforded. Eain dropped from every projecting part of his person and dress—from his nose and the ends of his ungloved hands—from the limp brim of his hat, which discharged its water down the collar of his coat in unrefreshing streams, in_ fact, no worse condition than his can be imagined, he being footsore, weary, wet, and hungry. In this imperfect retreat he remained for some time. At length the storm abated, and the rain, though still falling, came down in greater moderation. The door of the house opened, and two men appeared —one without a hat, and with a candle in his hand, the other a guest preparing to depart. ‘ There,’ said the host, ‘ I told you so. It still rains, and ’tis not fit to turn a dog out ! Come in, even if you won’t have another glass ?’ As this discussion was going on, they espied Mr Brown, turned the light full Upon him, and sternly demanded who he was. An explanation followed, he gave his name, and told them lie was a gentleman but lately settled in Liverpool. He did not tell his business, nor did they ask it. At any rate, he was in a pitiable condition, and was waiting for a conveyance to Preston. So, being cordially invited in, they all three entered the house. The owner was a frank open-hearted fellow—a half-pay lieutenant in the navy, who had long since abandoned saltwater, and lived ashore with an elder sister, an old maid and an invalid. Her little income, joined to his, enabled them to live comfortably, and besides a woman servant, to keep a pony, and a small boy to look after it. Although a sailor, he was devotedly fond of country sports, particularly of coursing, which he pursued with avidity; and he kept a greyhound or two. At this late hour the sister was gone to bed, and so was the boy ; but the pantry was ransacked, and a pork pie introduced for Mr Brown’s especial benefit. Spirits and water and tobacco were already on the table, and highly recommended to be put to fresh use. Every care was taken to make this half-drowned man less miserable. An old shooting jacket was lent him, whilst his own drenched coat was hung on a chair before the fire. Slippers were given him in place of his water-laden boots, and but one thing was wanting to make him happy ; he ventured to mention it—the gig might come up and pass on unheard. He would willingly remunerate any one who would remain outside to watch and listen. No such person could be found ; but, as the only expedient, the boy was called out of bed, which he left reluctantly and in great disgust; his master scolding him in sailor’s phrase, and saying ho was ready enough to be in anybody’s ‘ mess, but not inclined to be in anybody’s ‘watch.’ This youth was stationed outside to notify the approach of the gig, with orders to walk about so as to keep himself from falling asleep ; and, all things being 'thus arranged, the host stirred the fire, told them to make themselves comfortable, and he himself set them an example. Mr Brown prepared to attack the pork pie and the glass of grog. Here a fresh difficulty arose. The two former tipplers had been content to take their grog cold

! without. Like good believers in cogniac, they disdained hot water and sugar, and held to the local proverb, not Solomon’s, but equally wise, “that it was a sorry belly which could not warm its own drink.” Mr Brown’s eye rolled over the table for hot water and sugar, and on being asked, confessed he could not relish the liquor sufficiently, especially in his damp condition, otherwise than as warm with. Hot water water and sugar were sought for and procured. Only one thing more was needed, and that was a spoon. The sister was in bed, and had locked up the plate ; but at length an antique spoon was found in a corner cupboard, which would have puzzled any apothecary to measure physic by. It was neither a tablespoon nor a teaspoon, but something between both, and it was said to be one of a set left by will to him and his sister by an old relative. This spoon, however, did at last complete the wants of Mr Brown, who began to be considered rather a bore. He, however, seemed quite happy, and ate his pie and sipped his tumbler Avith eAddent satisfaction. Conversation Avent on freely. The host talked of his dogs and their doings—how lioav that old lady noAV lying on the hearthrug had beaten the crack dog that ran at Rainford Moss ; lioav she beat Mr Ridgway’s famous black dog Spot, at Altcar ; and what a sad thing it Avas that she aves iioav old and done ; —that some folks Avould shoot her, but he would as soon shoot one of his oavu relations, especially a rich uncle, if such could be found; but f it Avas a good job that the breed was not lost. He had a puppy in the stable that had run a trial-course with great credit, and he would enter him for the Southport Cup; and then he Avould fill the mother’s place, and he doubted not, sustain her fame. About this time the original guest, a sporting farmer of the neighbourhood, Avho had taken little interest in anything but his glass, took his departure. Still no sound or sign of the gig that Mr Brown waited for, but not more anxiously than the poor boy who Avas stationed outside. A second glass Avas A'entured on ; many sage obserA r ations were made on the danger of becoming fond of liquor to excess, and he alleged his damp condition as an excuse on this occasion—in fact, he took it medicinally. He was even about to venture on a third dose, Avhen, to the great joy of all parties, the boy tapped at the window - shutter, and said something Avas coming. The sound of AA'heels increased, and, to the delight of everybody, it proved to be the longdelayed conveyance. The tale the driver told, after a glass of brandy had unlocked his lips, Avas that, about half a mile beyond The Old Roan, one of the opposition coaches (he could not tell Avhich) came racing by, having just got the Avhip-hand of the other, which it was passing. It somehow caught the hind part of his gig just as he was swerving round to avoid a smash, and turned him completely round. One of the shafts came against a post and snapped like a carrot. It chucked him out, but did not hurt the horse; they all got into the ditch ; and off Avent the coach, taking no notice of him, and leaving him in the dark, Avith a broken shaft and some little damage to his harness. He stated lioav he had to Avalk on foot and lead tire horse for about tAvo miles— lioav he tried to knock up a AA r heelAvright, Avho looked out of AvindoAv and advised him to go back to Liverpool, Avhich he had a great mind to do ; only his master had ordered him to wait on Mr BroAvn, like a genteman, as he hoped to find him, and lioav at last he got a carpenter Avhom he kneAV to get up, to tie up his harness, and to botch and splice his broken shaft. This he hoped he had done securely, and he trusted that now his night’s troubles Avere OA T er. Mr BroAvn prepared to equip himself for his journey, and to resume his own attire. In reaching his coat, Avhich still hung on the chair, he disturbed the old hound, who groAvled and shoAved her teeth and would have snapped at him had she not been checked by her master, Avho could not account for it—it Avas the very first time in her life that she had shoAvn such temper. Mr BroAvn Avas profuse in his thanks for the great kindness he had received; he never could forget the exceedingly hospitable reception he had met Avith —no, not if he lived to the age of Methuselah ! He gave the boy who had been called out of bed a handful of copper, amounting to flvepence, alleging that he had no smaller coin than a shilling, and, with a smile of thankfulness for all favours, away he Avent to Preston, and the others to bed. By this time a streak of pale light in the east betokened coming day. About six weeks or tAvo months after this time, the sailor Avas sur-chai-ged in his taxpapers for a man-servant, for an extra greyhound, and for armorial bearings. He was astonished and confounded. He applied for explanation at Ormskirk, but could get none. He appealed to the Commissioners, of whom he has since said he made no complaint; they did justice, and could do no other. They said they acted on positive and certain information, that could not be gainsaid. He got off the manservant, as it was proved that the boy Avas a parish apprentice, and therefore exempt. His pony Avas under the height, and Avas not liable. The additional greyhound Avas the puppy but it had run a trial-course in public and he must pay. The spoon certainly had a crest upon it, and Avas chargeable. In one corner of the room he espied the informer, smiling serenely, for he profited by a commission on the amount of surcharge ; he Avas the ncAv surveyor of taxes, —Mr John Judas BroAvn.