As if he mocked himself or scorned his spirit,
That could be moved to smile at anything.
Julius Caesar.
The next day, late at noon, as Lucy was sitting with her father, not as
usual engaged either in work or in reading, but seemingly quite idle,
with her pretty foot upon the squire's gouty stool, and eyes fixed on
the carpet, while her hands (never were hands so soft and so small as
Lucy's, though they may have been eclipsed in whiteness) were lightly
clasped together and reposed listlessly on her knees,--the surgeon of
the village abruptly entered with a face full of news and horror. Old
Squire Brandon was one of those persons who always hear news, whatever
it may be, later than any of their neighbours; and it was not till all
the gossips of the neighbourhood had picked the bone of the matter quite
bare, that he was now informed, through the medium of Mr. Pillum,
that Lord Mauleverer had on the preceding night been stopped by three
highwaymen in his road to his country-seat, and robbed to a considerable
amount.
The fame of the worthy Dr. Slopperton's maladventure having long ere
this been spread far and wide, the whole neighbourhood was naturally
thrown into great consternation. Magistrates were sent to, large dogs
borrowed, blunderbusses cleaned, and a subscription made throughout the
parish for the raising of a patrol. There seemed little doubt but that
the offenders in either case were members of the same horde; and Mr.
Pillum, in his own mind, was perfectly convinced that they meant to
encroach upon his trade, and destroy all the surrounding householders
who were worth the trouble.
The next week passed in the most diligent endeavours, on the part of the
neighbouring magistrates and yeomanry, to detect and seize the robbers;
but their labours were utterly fruitless; and one justice of peace, who
had been particularly active, was himself entirely "cleaned out" by an
old gentleman who, under the name of Mr. Bagshot,--rather an ominous
cognomen,--offered to conduct the unsuspicious magistrate to the very
spot where the miscreants might be seized. No sooner, however, had he
drawn the poor justice away from his comrades into a lonely part of
the road than he stripped him to his shirt. He did not even leave his
worship his flannel drawers, though the weather was as bitter as the
dog-days of 1829.
"It is not my way," said the hoary ruffian, when the just
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