"Here, Peregrine," said Anthony, "take this
pistol and keep 'em quiet while I walk on this scoundrel a little!"
Unwillingly enough, I took the weapon, while Anthony forthwith stood
upon his prostrate antagonist and proceeded very deliberately to wipe
his villainous-looking boots upon the gentleman's fine blue spencer;
this done, he stepped down and beckoned the squat man to approach, who
came in, though very unwillingly, and closely followed by the ostler
and postillion.
"'Ave ye killed the pore soul?" questioned the squat fellow, eyeing
the prostrate man very much askance.
"Alas, no--so I will ask you and these good fellows to carry him out
and lay him in the horse-trough--"
"'Orse-trough?" exclaimed the landlord.
"Horse-trough!" nodded Anthony.
"Not us!" answered the landlord.
"Think again!" said Anthony, taking up the blunderbuss.
"Ye mean t' say--" began the landlord.
"Horse-trough!" said Anthony, levelling the ungainly weapon.
"Come on, master," quoth the ostler, "'e du be a mortal desp'rit cove
for sure! An' what's a little water; 't will du un good!" So in the
end they raised the groaning man and bore him forth, followed by
Anthony with the blunderbuss across his arm. And presently from
without came a splash, a fierce sputtering and a furious torrent of
gasping oaths, which last sound greatly relieved me; and now, what
with this and the excitement of the whole affair, I sank down in a
chair, trembling from head to foot and my head bowed upon my hands.
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