Catherine: A Story

rm caused by the irruption of Mr. Brock and his companions had subsided. "The

up a farthing of

erine, "I know, for all his drawn sw

wer to Mr. Justice Gobble, of this town: a'n't I, Tim?" sai

hly; "we're all followers o

" said the

ried the man i

to apprehend all able-bodied male persons who can give no good account of themselves, and enrol them in the service of Her Majesty. Look at this Mr. H

a! I tell you I know the man" cried out Mr

me see; where was it? At Birmingham, I think,-ay, at Birm

entreaty, "what is it you want with my husband? I know not, indeed, if ever I saw you before. For what

Sir, I have nothing but my hands to support me: I

neas to be free; I know

a to carry me home,

these brave gentlemen a writing to your mother, and she wi

aid, yes," said the

ling detintion, my dear?" continued he, addressing Hayes. "We'll amuse

ady to produce the desired liquor; and when Mr. Hayes flung himself at that lady's

r. Brock in reply, holding up a horse-pistol. To which th

y guineas; and that it would be of no use to detain the bearer of the letter, inasmuch as the gentlemen who had possession of him vowed that they would murder him sh

alled indifferently Ensign, Mr., or even Captain Macshane; his intimates occasionally in sport called him Nosey, from the prominence of that feature in his countenance; or Spindleshins, for the very

se, Mr. Brock and his two friends enjoyed the meal along with the bride and bridegroom. Punch followed, and this was taken in company; then

y must stay with you, my dears: for who knows but you might take a fancy to scream out of window, and then there would be murder, and th

prisoners with the utmost courtesy, and did all that lay in his power, by the help of liquor and conversation, to render their durance tolerable. On the bridegroom his attentions were a good deal thrown away: Mr. Hayes consented to drink copiously, but could not be m

d times-dear times to her; she had had from him, too, and felt for him, not a little kindness; and there was really a ve

ver which Mr. Hayes had not been occupied more than an hour, when he found himself so excessively sleepy as

She explained to Brock the circumstances of her marriage, which we have already described; they wondered at the chance which had brought them together at the "Three Rooks;" nor did Brock at all hesitate to tell her at once that his calling was quite ille

te some of the principal circumstances which befell him after his sudden depart

f Denmark," a great bargain, to one of the heads of colleges. As soon as Mr. Brock, who took on himself the style and title of Captain Wood, had su

ickadilly." But Captain Wood, in an enormous full-bottomed periwig that cost him sixty pounds,[*] with high red heels to his shoes, a silver sword, and a gold snuff-box, and a large wound (obtained, he said, at the siege of Barcelona), which disfigured much of his countenance, and caused him to cover one eye, was in small danger, he thought, of being mistaken for Corporal Brock, the deserter of Cutts's; and strutted along the Mall with as grave an air as the very best nobleman who appeared there. He was generally, indeed, voted to be very go

contemporary histor

ntioned as co

not, as you please." And so he had the reputation of being a gentleman, not only wealthy, but discreet. In truth, it was almost a pity that worthy Brock had not been a gentleman born; in which case, doubtless, he would have lived and died as became his station; for he spent his money like a gentleman, he loved women like a gentleman, he would fight like a gentleman, he gambled and got drunk like a gentleman. Wh

k; I walked daily in the Mall; I dined at the politest ordinary in Covent Garden; I frequented the best of coffee-houses, and knew all the pretty fellows of the town; I cracked a bottle with Mr

an; but there was a Captain Wood in Southwell's regiment.' Egad, it was my Lord Peterborough himself who was talking about me. So, puttin

w me: for many more know Tom Fool, than Tom Fool knows.' And with this, at which all o

high feather. Ay, truly, the sentinels on duty used to salute me as if I were Corporal John himself! I was on the high road to fortune. Charley Mordaunt used to call me Jack, and drink canary at my chambers; I used to make on

ickshire Squire: and all this on eighty pounds a year! Well, for a little time the tradesmen held their hands; while the jolly Count moved heaven and earth to catch hold of his dear Corporal and his dear money-bags over again, and placarded every town from Londo

ery thing: for you see, my dear, I didn't care about joining my Lord Duke in Flanders; being pretty well known to the army there. The Secretary squeezed my hand (it had a fifty-pound bill in it) and wished me joy, and called me Major,

care to see, look you! I saw a uniform that I knew-red and yellow facings-Cutts's, my dear; and th

d, you know), and after standing stock-still with his mouth open, gave a

, sir,' says I; 'di

he hears my voice, and laid hold of my cuff (a p

coat, my dear,-a rare place if you wish to prevent a man from speaking too much: it sent him reeling to the other end o

ated with many a glass of Nantz at the tavern. And so, indeed, I had; for the wretch could not speak

,' says one officer. 'Men of rank and ho

ade for the door, but Macshane held me and said, 'Major, you are not going to shir

the man is a deserter, a thief, and a swindler

ade another cut at him with my cane;

, I swear be me honour that Captain Wood was wounded at Barcelona; and that I saw him t

rld; and that I had actually persuaded poor Mac that he and I were friends in

,' says I. 'I'll hav

ount, who was boiling with

t. In good time too, for the constables came in at the tho

es were then told to do their duty if they liked, or to take a crown-piece, and leave us to ourselves. Off they went; and presently, in a couple

as an old major, a cool old hand, as brave as steel, and no fool. Well, the swords are measured, Galgenstein strips off his doublet, and I my handsome cut-velvet in like fashion. Galgenste

g, sure?' says Macshane. 'Of cour

and Ramillies cocks, frizzle in purgatory from this day forth to the end of t

te forgotten, the large patch which I wore over one eye, which popp

dog was as active as a hare, and knew, from old times, that I was his ma

ear a patch over it? But stop!' says he. 'I have more proof. Hand me my pocket-book.' And from it, sure enough, he produced the infernal proclamation announcing my desertion! 'See if the fellow has a scar across his left ear' (and I can't say, my dear, but what I have: it was

tain Wood,' said the old Ma

and my friend!' shouted out Mr. Macsha

leman, I am sure, not to satisfy the Count; and will show us that

ight that scoundrel Galgenstein, or you, or any of you, like a

oorse,' sa

man off the groun

re of telling him that he's a coward and a liar; and that my lodgings are i

lly Macshane. And sure enough he kept his word,

hes, and went back in our separ

e alone-'is it thrue now, all these divvles have been

and insign these

d like a few p

ll you the secred thrut, I've n

ust told him the whole story: at which he laughed, and swore that it was the best piece of GENERALSHIP he ever heard on. When his belly was full, I took out a couple of guineas and gave them to him. Mr. Macshane be

and see if the coast was clear: which he did; and came back to me as pale as death, saying that the house was full of constables. The cursed quarrel at the Tilt-yard had, I suppose, set the beaks upon me; and a p

man can't be particular, and must be prompt; the livery-stable was hard by where I used to hire my coach to go to Court,-ha! ha!-and was known as a man of substance. Thither I went immediately. 'M

e in a minute: and the Ensign and I found ourselves regular knights of the road, before we knew where we were almost. Only think of our finding you and your new husband at the 'Three Rooks'! There's

" said Mrs. Catherine to Mr. Br

e sold them at Stourbridge fair, and

Max; where is he,

ear, he is off to Flanders with his regiment; and, I make no doubt

ing, sir," said Mrs. Catheri

ose you'd laudanum

etched at Brock, at the ceiling, at the floor, at her husband (from whom she violently turned away her head), she began to cry pi

a rogue; but a good-natured old fellow when his humour was not crossed. Surely our novel-writers make a great mistake in divesting their rascals of all gentle human qualities: they have such-and the only sad point to think of is, in all private conc