reminds me that I have quite as little
time to lose as yourself. You now understand, young sir, the toll you
have to pay, and the proprietor who claims it."
"Perfectly--perfectly. You will not suppose me dull again, most candid
keeper of the Pony Turnpike. But have you made up your mind, in earnest,
to relieve me of such trifling encumbrances as those you have just
mentioned?"
"I should be strangely neglectful of the duties of my station, not to
speak of the discourtesy of such a neglect to yourself, were I to do
otherwise; always supposing you burdened with such encumbrances. I put
it to yourself, whether such would not be the effect of my omission."
"It most certainly would, most frank and candid of all the outlaws. Your
punctiliousness on this point of honor entitles you, in my mind, to an
elevation above and beyond all others of your profession. I admire the
grace of your manner, in the commission of acts which the more tame and
temperate of our kind are apt to look upon as irregular and unlovely.
You, I see, have the true notion of the thing."
The ruffian looked with some doubt upon the youth--inquiringly, as if to
account in some way for the singular coolness, not to say contemptuous
scornfulness, of his replies and manner. There was something, too, of a
searching malignity in his glance, that seemed to recognise in his
survey features which brought into activity a personal emotion in his
own bosom, not at variance, indeed, with the craft he was pursuing, but
fully above and utterly beyond it. Dismissing, however, the expression,
he continued in the manner and tone so tacitly adopted between the
parties.
"I am heartily glad, most travelled young gentleman, that your opinion
so completely coincides with my own, since it assures me I shall not be
compelled, as is sometimes the case in the performance of my duties, to
offer any rudeness to one seemingly so well taught as yourself. Knowing
the relationship between us so fully, you can have no reasonable
objection to conform quietly to all my requisitions, and yield the
toll-keeper his dues."
Our traveller had been long aware, in some degree, of the kind of
relationship between himself and his companion; but, relying on his
defences, and perhaps somewhat too much on his own personal capacities
of defence, and, possibly, something curious to see how far the love of
speech in his assailant might carry him in a dialogue of so artificial a
character, he forbor
|