Rookwood. A Romance By W. HARRISON AINSWORTH

“As I live,” said the latter, “it is jack Palmer.”

“Dick Turpin, you mean,” rejoined the sexton. “He has been paying his respects to a brother blade. Ha, ha! Dick will never have the honour of a gibbet; he is too tender of the knife. Did you mark the crow? But here he comes.” And in another instant Turpin was by their side.

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CHAPTER II

A GIPSY ENCAMPMENT

THE top of the morning to you, gem’men,” said Turpin, as he rode up at an easy canter. “Did you not hear my halloo? I caught a glimpse of you on the hill yonder. I knew you both, two miles off; and so, having a word or two to say to you, Luke Bradley, before I leave this part of the country, I put Bess to it, and she soon brought me within hail. Bless her black skin,” added he, affectionately patting his horse’s neck, “there’s not her match in these parts, or in any other; she wants no coaxing to do her work—no bleeders for her. I should have been up with you before this had I not taken a cross cut to look at poor Ben.

“One night, when mounted on my mare,

To Bagshot Heath I did repair,

And saw Will Davies hanging there,

Upon the gibbet bleak and bare,

With a rustified, fustified, mustified air.

Excuse my singing. The sight of a gibbet always puts me in mind of the Golden Farmer. May I ask whither you are bound, comrades?”

“Comrades!” whispered the sexton to Luke; “you see he does not so easily forget his old friends.”

“I have business that will not admit of delay,” rejoined Luke; “and, to speak plainly—”

“You want not my society,” returned Turpin; “I thought as much. Natural enough! You have got an inkling of your good fortune. You have found out you are a rich man’s heir, not a poor wench’s bastard. No offence, I’m a plain-spoken man, as you will find, if you know it not already. I have no objection to your playing these fine tricks on others, though it won’t answer your turn to do so with me.”

“Sir!” exclaimed Luke, sharply.

“Sir to you,” replied Turpin. “Sir Luke—as I suppose you would now choose to be addressed. I am aware of all. A nod is as good as a wink to me. Last night I learnt the fact of Sir Piers’s marriage from Lady Rookwood—ay, from her ladyship. You stare—and old Peter, there, opens his ogles now. She let it out by accident; and I am in possession of what can alone substantiate your father’s first marriage, and establish your claims to the property.”

“The devil!” cried the sexton; adding, in a whisper to Luke, “You had better not be precipitate in dropping so obliging an acquaintance.”

“You are jesting,” said Luke to Turpin.

“It is ill jesting before breakfast,” returned Dick: “I am seldom in the mood for a joke so early. What if a certain marriage certificate had fallen into my hand?”

“A marriage certificate!” echoed Luke and the sexton simultaneously.

“The only existing proof of the union of Sir Piers Rookwood with Susan Bradley,” continued Turpin. “What if I had stumbled upon such a document—nay, more, if I knew where to direct you to it?”

“Peace!” cried Luke to his tormentor; and then addressing Turpin, “If what you say be true, my quest is at an end. All that I need, you appear to possess. Other proofs are secondary to this. I know with whom I have to deal. What do you demand for that certificate?”

“We will talk about the matter after breakfast,” said Turpin. “I wish to treat with you as friend with friend. Meet me on those terms, and I am your man; reject my offer, and I turn my mare’s head, and ride back to Rookwood. With me now rests all your hopes. I have dealt fairly with you, and I expect to be fairly dealt with in return. It were idle to say, now I have an opportunity, that I should not turn this luck to my account. I were a fool to do otherwise. You cannot expect it. And then I have Rust and Wilder to settle with. Though I have left them behind, they know my destination. We have been old associates. I like your spirit—I care not for your haughtiness; but I will not help you up the ladder to be kicked down myself. Now you understand me. Whither are you bound?”