Read Ebook: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature Science and Art fifth series no. 128 vol. III June 12 1886 by Various

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The mulatto started. 'So soon as dat!' he cried. 'Den you has got de pistols?'

The old African bowed majestically. 'Slay ebbery male among dem,' he answered aloud in his deepest accents, with a not wholly unimpressive mouthing of his hollow vowels--'slay ebbery male, an' take de women captive, an' de maidens, an' de little ones; an' divide among you de spoil ob all deir cattle, an' all deir flocks, an' all deir goods, an' deir cities wherein dey dwell, an' all deir vineyards, an' deir goodly castles.'

Isaac Pourtal?s' eyes gleamed hideously as he listened in delight to that awful quotation.

THE DUBLIN BANK GUARD.

The guard over the Bank of Ireland in Dublin was then--as I believe it is now--under the command of the senior subaltern for guard in the garrison, with a proper complement of non-commissioned officers and men; and was relieved, like all the other garrison guards, every twenty-four hours. The men's guardroom was a large apartment, flagged with stone, on the ground-floor of part of what was once the old Irish House of Parliament; and above it was the officer's guardroom, which was reached by a flight of stairs, at the bottom of which a door communicated on the left with the men's guardroom, and facing the stair-foot was a small heavy door leading into the street. In this door was a barred aperture about a foot square, closed by a sliding piece of wood, which could be drawn aside to permit the examination from within of any one outside; and inside the door, a sentry was posted during the night. Through the barred aperture, the 'Grand rounds'--as the field-officer on duty for the day was called--whispered the countersign to the officer of the guard when he visited the bank at night, after which he was admitted, to enable him to inspect the guard. To the left of the door outside was also a large iron-studded gate, leading into a small courtyard, where the guard paraded during the daytime; but this, as well as the small door, was locked and secured by heavy bars at sunset, and the keys of both were kept by the officer of the guard.

Immediately after the mounting of the new guard, every morning a knock at the door of the officer's room announced the arrival of the head-porter with a large book, in which the officer signed his name, rank, and regiment; and on the departure of the head-porter with the book, a half-sovereign was found on the table where the book had been. There were no meals provided for the officer, as for his more fortunate comrade mounting the Bank Picket in London; nor were the non-commissioned officers or men 'tipped,' as at the Bank of England; but they, as well as the officer, were left to shift for themselves in the way of food during the twenty-four hours, without even the assistance of a canteen vendor, so that the dinners and other meals had to be sent from the barracks--in the case of some regiments, a distance of two or three miles--there was no blanket or greatcoat either provided at the Bank of Ireland for the men; but the officer had some articles furnished for his use, for a consideration, which were exhumed towards night from a small closet in the officer's guardroom. There was no library or anything of that kind for men or officer; and they were left entirely to their own devices how to fill up the tedium of the twenty-four hours' duty.

The furniture of both guardrooms was scanty, that in the men's room consisting of a few forms and a guard-bed of wood, raised a couple of feet from the ground; while the officer's furniture was more luxurious, he having an old leather-covered couch, with four or five chairs to match, and a large table. There was, however, abundance of fuel; and candles of the mutton-fat order were liberally supplied at the rate of one to each room. Both apartments were large and lofty, the ceiling of the officer's being vaulted; and its walls, in my time, were covered with drawings in pencil and coloured chalks, more or less well done; and many very amusing, being caricatures of well-known staff and other officers, or sketches of various funny incidents which had taken place at guard-mountings and field-days, in which the figure of old Toby White, the well-known town major, was always prominent, as well as an adjutant of one of the regiments, famed for the peculiar peak which adorned his shako, and his feats of horsemanship, which seemed meant to illustrate the many ways one could fall off a horse without getting hurt. Over the vast mantel-piece were drawings of the breastplates of every regiment that had mounted the guard, all artistically and faithfully done. Like the gorgets, these breastplates have ceased for many years to be part of the uniform of the British infantry; but for the benefit of those who don't remember them, I may say that they served to clasp across the breast the broad white sword-belt worn in full uniform in the days of coatees and epaulets, and were very handsome, having, besides, the number of the regiment, the regimental badge, and the various battles authorised to be borne on the regimental colour, emblazoned on them.

Amongst the other drawings on the walls was, directly opposite the door leading from the stairs into the guardroom, the figure of a young lady clad in the full-dress uniform of a regiment dating many years anterior to the time of which I speak. She was represented as standing at the salute, with a drawn sword extended in her right hand, and the left at the shako peak shading the eyes. There was a legend--whence derived or how handed down, I am unable to say--that the young lady in the obsolete uniform was the wife of an officer of the guard who one night, many years ago, had become intoxicated on duty; and that she saved his commission by dressing herself in his uniform and turning out the guard to the field-officer when going his nightly rounds. This legend was, I have no doubt, as true as very many which are now implicitly believed; but be that as it may, it was an article of faith amongst the subalterns of the Dublin garrison, who always regarded the fair young figure in the quaint uniform with a certain amount of respect.

In those days, the guardrooms in Dublin were pretty generally ornamented with sketches, some of which were very well done. I may specify 'The Kildare Hunt,' round the wall of the upper castle guard; and a monument upon a wall facing the door in the lower castle guard, on which was the following inscription:

IN MEMORY OF

May whose end be as his life has been--peaceful!

That the above stung the officer in question, who was a well-known martinet, but, unfortunately, had seen no war-service, we soon had reason to know; for an order was issued that in future all commandants of guards were to certify in their guard Reports that the walls of their guardrooms had not been defaced during their tour of duty.

It was in vain that I reminded him of the order that no one was to be admitted to the Bank Guard after tattoo except on duty. He laughed at my scruples; and at last, on his hinting that want of hospitality was at the bottom of my strict observance of standing orders, I was weak enough to give in; and the tempter descending the stairs, stopped to say, by way of encouragement: 'You know we shan't be with you before twelve o'clock; and by that time, the Grand rounds will have turned you out, and will be snug in bed in the upper castle.' So saying, without giving me time to recall my inconsiderate promise, he was off, and I had nothing left me but to call my servant; and between us, we managed to arrange, if not an elegant, at least a comfortable little supper, which was brought in from a neighbouring hotel. Fresh lights were placed upon the now well-furnished table, more coals added to the already roaring fire, beside which simmered a kettle of boiling water, ready to mix with what in the Irish capital is known as 'the materials;' and towards the 'sma' hours ayont the twal,' I sat waiting the arrival of my expected guests, as well as the field-officer of the day, who, to my great discomfort and uneasiness, had not up to this hour put in an appearance.

So, 'laying this flattering unction to our souls,' we proceeded, without further ceremony, to pay attention to the good things provided for the comfort of the body, and had already got through a fair lot of the bivalves, when suddenly the loud challenge of the sentry at the door below rang through the vaulted corridor: 'Who comes there?' The reply from outside was: 'Rounds;' then: 'What rounds?' Answer: 'Grand rounds,' followed by the sentry's: 'Stand, Grand rounds; Guard, turn out.'

I now dashed down below, and after the accustomed interchange of question and answer at the barred window in the door, ordered his admission, and proceeded to the guard, which was turned out in the men's guardroom, to duly 'present arms' to the Grand rounds.

What could I say, but--heaven forgive me--express the pleasure it would give me to do the hospitable; and so, with troubled heart, I bounded up the stairs ostensibly to fetch a candle to light the major up, but really to clear the room of the prisoners, had they left the closet, or, at all events, to warn them of approaching danger if they had not. In either case, I was, however, foiled, as the Grand rounds, though a portly-looking little man, and not active to all appearance, still had the use of his legs, well tried, no doubt, on many a good Highland moor and mountain; and in spite of my knowledge of the staircase, he was in the guardroom close at my heels. It was, however, to all appearance entirely without any occupants save ourselves, and only the remains of the supper looked suspicious. This at once attracted the major; and to his remark that I appeared to have had a party here, I replied loudly, in order to give notice to the prisoners, that some of our fellows had dropped in during the afternoon and had some lunch; that I had had my dinner after they had left, and that my servant had not yet removed the d?bris; that I dared say there were some oysters still left, and would the major let me get him a few, &c.? which caused the little man's eyes to twinkle as he toasted himself by the ample fire; and unbuckling his sword, he seated himself in a chair at the table, and fell to without more ceremony, remarking: 'You are very kind. What Sybarites you --th fellows are! I'll just take an oyster or two, and qualify with a glass of hot toddy, to keep out the cold of this bitter night.'

After doing ample justice to the supper, he proceeded to undo a couple of the bottom buttons of his doublet, and, with a sigh of satisfaction, drew his chair closer to the fire, and lighting a cigar, settled himself comfortably for a chat. I, too, lighted a pipe, and with an affectation of enjoyment I was far from feeling, I sat opposite to him, and listened to what I have no doubt were very amusing anecdotes, but which fell unheeded upon ears strained to catch a sneeze or cough or other ill-timed sound from the closet. All, however, was quite still there; and after what seemed to me a century of anxious suspense, the Grand rounds finished his glass, and with profuse thanks for my hospitality, rebuckled himself into his sword-belt and took his departure.

It couldn't have been much more than an hour since he came up-stairs, and yet to me it seemed ages until the outer door again closed on him and I heard his muffled footsteps retreating over the soft snow. But if the time appeared long to me, what must it not have been to the prisoners caged in the stuffy closet! I found them peeping inquiringly out from their prison; and when the 'Coast clear' was announced, such a peal of laughter resounded through the old walls as made them ring again; and there being no fear of further disturbance, we straightway drank health and safe home to the jolly old Grand rounds; and seating ourselves at the table with appetites sharpened by the perils we had passed, we did ample justice to the remainder of the supper, and proved that 'all's well that ends well' in a most satisfactory manner. Far into the night, or rather well into the morning, was it before we parted; and as Harry shook my hand at the stair-foot, he said: 'Good-night, good-night, or rather morning. We are all much obliged for the night's amusement; but between you and me, old man, I don't think that I, for one, will ever again join a supper party in the Bank Guard.' To which I replied: 'No; nor will you ever catch me again giving one.'

TREASURE TROVE.

The visitor, who was no other than Jasper Rodley, ordered a stiff tumbler of grog and a new pipe, took his seat, and gazed intently at the leaping flames for some moments without speaking. 'It's a wretched evening for a walk,' he said presently; a remark which elicited a gruff murmur of assent from the circle; 'and the road from Saint Quinians is as hard to follow as the course between Deadland Shoal and the Painter Buoy,' he continued. He was evidently a sailor, so that eyes were again fixed on him with something of the original suspicion.

There was another pause, during which pipes were puffed vigorously and more than one mug emptied.

Jasper Rodley broke the silence. 'Doesn't a Captain West live somewhere hereabouts?' he asked.

'Yes, sir,' replied a man. 'Can't mistake the house--a long white un, standing in a bit o' garden with a flagstaff in it, about two miles towards the town.'

'Strange sort of man, isn't he?' asked Rodley.

'Well, sir, he's strange in some things; but nobody don't know any harm of him,' replied the man; ''cos it's precious little folk see of him.'

'Said to be very rich, isn't he?' asked Rodley.

This question brought the eyes of the party to bear again upon the speaker, the problem troubling the rude minds being: 'If this chap wants to see the captain, and hails from Saint Quinians, why on earth does he go two miles farther than he need?' Mental conclusion arrived at--stranger up to no good.

'Well, no, mate,' replied the man to Rodley's question; 'he ain't what you'd call rich, not by no means, seein' that he's only a half-pay captain. But he's been richer durin' this last four year than he wur afore.'

'Lives all alone with his daughter, doesn't he?' continued Rodley.

Mental conclusion previously arrived at by the party is confirmed.

'Yes,' replied the man who acted as spokesman; 'lives with Miss Bertha, the cap'en do. She's a proper quean, she is. Purtiest slip of a lass in these parts by a long way. But the cap'en he keeps her uncommon close; can't a-bear her to be out of his sight; and when she goes into town a-marketin' on Wednesdays, we says it's about all the life she sees.'

Another silence ensued, during which the half-dozen pairs of eyes were taking stock of Rodley sideways, and endeavouring to solve the problem of his intentions from his dress and appearance.

'Nobody heard of it,' replied the spokesman. 'There was a lugger of that name left Saint Quinians about four years agone; but she warn't never heard of no more; and bein' a smuggler, that ain't surprisin'.'

'I thought some bodies were washed ashore by the Locket Rock about that time,' observed Rodley.

'There's a sight o' poor chaps washed ashore hereabouts every gale,' replied the man. ''Tain't possible allus to say who they be or where they come from. Saint Quinians' churchyard is full on 'em.'

Not another word was spoken for at least twenty minutes. At the expiration of that time, Rodley rose, went to the door, looked out, remarked that the rain had stopped, put on his overalls, paid his reckoning, wished the company 'good-night,' and went out into the darkness.

'Didn't get much information out of these chaps!' he muttered as he pulled his hat down over his face against the driving wind and retraced his steps towards the captain's house. What with battling against the wind and stumbling about the uneven road in the dark, it was an hour before the solitary light in the captain's house met Rodley's gaze. He crossed the small garden and knocked.

Bertha opened the door, and asked timidly: 'Who is it?'

'I--Jasper Rodley,' was the reply.

She uttered a cry of alarm, and would have shut the door, but that Rodley had placed his foot in the opening. The captain hearing his daughter's cry, came hobbling along the passage hastily. When he beheld Rodley, a cloud came over his face, and he said: 'Hillo, mate, what is it at this time o' night?'

'I want a bed for to-night, and a few words with you, captain,' said Rodley, who by this time was fairly inside the house, and coolly taking his hat and coat off.

'But I've no room here. There's an inn farther down, where they'll put you up better than we can.'

'I'm a sailor, captain,' replied Rodley, 'and I don't mind where I shake down: that's of no consequence, but the talk is.'

The captain, who seemed to treat his evidently unwelcome visitor with a kind of deference, shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into the sitting-room, where the remains of a substantial meal graced the table. Jasper Rodley made himself very comfortable in an armchair; the captain, who was the wreck of a fine man, and who, being lame from a recent accident, used a stick, remained standing, as if uncertain how to proceed next; whilst poor Bertha stood, trembling with fright, by the door.

'Captain,' said the visitor, 'isn't ten o'clock the usual time for young ladies to go to bed?'

At this hint, the old man made a signal to his daughter, who retired.

'Now then,' continued Rodley, 'let's to business.'

'I'm not aware that I have any business with you,' said the captain.

'Well, you'll soon have some with me. Look here. We're men of the world, and we must understand each other. I've only met you twice before: each time you were coming from the same place, and each time you were astonished, in fact, alarmed, at seeing me.'

'Well, sir, and what of that?' asked the old sailor. 'Here am I, an old East India Company's skipper, living in a lonely place, where I don't see half-a-dozen people in the course of a month. You came upon me suddenly, just when it was getting dark, and I was naturally startled.'

'O no; that's not it,' continued Rodley. 'But we'll leave that for a bit. First of all, I'm head over heels in love with your daughter.'

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