The O'Ruddy: A Romance

by Stephen Crane

  CHAPTER XXXI

  Looking back over my long life I scarcely remember any day morepleasant than that I spent riding side by side with Father Donovanfrom London to Rye. The fine old man had a fund of entertainingstories, and although I had heard them over and over again there wasalways something fresh in his way of telling them, and now and then Irecognized a narrative that had once made two separate stories, butwhich had now become welded into one in the old man's mind. There wasnever anything gloomy in these anecdotes, for they always showed thecheerful side of life and gave courage to the man that wanted to doright; for in all of Father Donovan's stories the virtuous were alwaysmade happy. We talked of our friends and acquaintances, and if he everknew anything bad about a man he never told it; while if I mentionedit he could always say something good of him to balance it, or atleast to mitigate the opinion that might be formed of it. He wasalways doing some man a good turn or speaking a comforting word forhim.

  "O'Ruddy," he said, "I spent most of the day yesterday writing lettersto those that could read them in our part of Ireland, setting rightthe rumours that had come back to us, which said you were fightingduels and engaged in brawls, but the strangest story of all was theone about your forming a friendship with a highwayman, who, they said,committed robberies on the road and divided the spoil with you, andhere I find you without a servant at all at all, leading a quiet,respectable life at a quiet, respectable inn. It's not even in atavern that I first come across you, but kneeling devoutly, saying aprayer in your mother church. I see you leaving your inn having paidyour bill like a gentleman, when they said you took night-leave ofmost of the hostelries in England. Dear me, and there was the landlordbowing to you as if you were a prince, and all his servants in a rowwith the utmost respect for you. Ah, O'Ruddy, it's men like you thatgives the good name to Ireland, and causes her to be looked up to byall the people of the world."

  I gave Father Donovan heartfelt thanks for his kindness, and prayed tomyself that we would not come upon Jem Bottles on the road, and thatwe would be left unmolested on our journey until we saw the sea-coast.Of course, if we were set upon, it would not be my fault, and it's notlikely he would blame me; but if we came on Bottles, he was inclinedto be very easy in conversation, and, in spite of my warnings, wouldlet slip words that would shock the old priest. But when a day beginstoo auspiciously, its luck is apt to change before the sun sets, as itwas with me.

  It was nearing mid-day, and we were beginning to feel a trifle hungry,yet were in a part of the country that gave little promise of an inn,for it was a lonely place with heath on each side of the road, and,further on, a bit of forest. About half-way through this wooded plainan astonishing sight met my eyes. Two saddled horses were tied to atree, and by the side of the road appeared to be a heap of nine orten saddles, on one of which a man was sitting, comfortably eating abit of bread, while on another a second man, whose head was tied up ina white cloth, lay back in a recumbent position, held upright by thesaddlery. Coming closer, I was disturbed to see that the man eatingwas Jem Bottles, while the other was undoubtedly poor Paddy, althoughhis clothes were so badly torn that I had difficulty in recognizingthem as my own. As we drew up Jem stood and saluted with his mouthfull, while Paddy groaned deeply. I was off my horse at once and ranto Paddy.

  "Where are ye hurted?" said I.

  "I'm killed," said Paddy.

  "I've done the best I could for him," put in Jem Bottles. "He'll beall right in a day or two."

  "I'll not," said Paddy, with more strength than one would suspect;"I'll not be all right in a day or two, nor in a week or two, nor in amonth or two, nor in a year or two; I'm killed entirely."

  "You're not," said Bottles. "When I was on the highway I never mindeda little clip like that."

  "Hush, Bottles," said I, "you talk altogether too much. Paddy," criedI, "get on your feet, and show yer manners here to Father Donovan."

  Paddy got on his feet with a celerity which his former attitude wouldnot have allowed one to believe possible.

  "My poor boy!" said the kindly priest; "who has misused you?" and heput his two hands on the sore head.

  "About two miles from here," said Paddy, "I was set on by a score ofmen--"

  "There was only nine of them," interrupted Jem, "count the saddles."

  "They came on me so sudden and unexpected that I was off my horsebefore I knew there was a man within reach. They had me down before Icould say my prayers, and cudgelled me sorely, tearing my clothes, andthey took away the packet of papers you gave me, sir. Sure I tried toguard it with my life, an' they nearly took both."

  "I am certain you did your best, Paddy," said I; "and it's sorry I amto see you injured."

  "Then they rode away, leaving me, sore wounded, sitting on the side ofthe road," continued Paddy. "After a while I come to myself, for Iseemed dazed; and, my horse peacefully grazing beside me, I managed toget on its back, and turned toward London in the hope of meeting you;but instead of meeting you, sir, I came upon Jem with his pile ofsaddles, and he bound up my head and did what he could to save me,although I've a great thirst on me at this moment that's difficult todeal with."

  "There's a ditch by the side of the road," said the priest.

  "Yes," said Paddy sadly; "I tried some of that."

  I went to my pack on the horse and took out a bottle and a leathercup. Paddy drank and smacked his lips with an ecstasy that gave ushope for his ultimate recovery. Jem Bottles laughed, and to close hismouth I gave him also some of the wine.

  "I hope," said Father Donovan with indignation, "that the miscreantwho misused you will be caught and punished."

  "I punished them," said Jem, drawing the back of his hand across hismouth.

  "We'll hear about it another time," said I, having my suspicions.

  "Let the good man go on," begged Father Donovan, who is not withouthuman curiosity.

  Jem needed no second bidding.

  "Your Reverence," he said, "I was jogging quietly on as a decent manshould, when, coming to the edge of this forest, I saw approach me aparty of horsemen, who were very hilarious and laughed loudly. If youlook up and down the road and see how lonely it is, and then look atthe wood, with no hedge between it and the highway, you'll notice theplace was designed by Providence for such a meeting."

  "Sure the public road is designed as a place for travellers to meet,"said the father, somewhat bewildered by the harangue.

  "Your Reverence is right, but this place could not afford betteraccommodation if I had made it myself. I struck into the wood beforethey saw me, tore the black lining from my hat, punched two holes init for the eyes, and tied it around my forehead, letting it hang downover my face; then I primed my two pistols and waited for thegentlemen. When they were nearly opposite, a touch of the heels to myhorse's flank was enough, and out he sprang into the middle of theroad.

  "'Stand and deliver!' I cried, pointing the pistols at them, the wordscoming as glibly to my lips as if I had said them no later ago thanyesterday. 'Stand and deliver, ye--'" and here Jem glibly rattled outa stream of profane appellatives which was disgraceful to listen to.

  "Tut, tut, Jem," I said, "you shouldn't speak like that. Any way we'llhear the rest another time."

  "That's what I called them, sir," said Jem, turning to me withsurprise, "you surely would not have me tell an untruth."

  "I wouldn't have you tell anything. Keep quiet. Father Donovan is notinterested in your recital."

  "I beg your pardon, O'Ruddy," said Father Donovan, looking at mereproachfully; "but I am very much interested in this man'snarrative."

  "As any good man should be," continued Jem, "for these were arrantscoundrels; one of them I knew, and his name is Doctor Chord. He felloff his horse on the roadway at once and pleaded for mercy. I orderedthe others instantly to hold their hands above their heads, and theydid so, except one man who began fumbling in his holster, and then, toshow him what I could do with a pistol, I broke his wrist. At thesound of the shot the horses began to plunge, nearly trampling
DoctorChord into the dust.

  "'Clasp your hands above your heads, ye--'"

  Here went on another stream of terrible language again, and in despairI sat down on the pile of saddles, allowing things to take theircourse. Jem continued:

  "The lesson of the pistol was not misread by my gentlemen, when theynoticed I had a second loaded one; so, going to them one after theother I took their weapons from them and flung them to the foot ofthat tree, where, if you look, you may see them now. Then I took acontribution from each one, just as you do in church, your Reverence.I'm sure you have a collection for the poor, and that was the one Iwas taking up this day. I have not counted them yet," said thevillain turning to me, "but I think I have between sixty and seventyguineas, which are all freely at your disposal, excepting a trifle formyself and Paddy there. There's no plaster like gold for a sore head,your Reverence. I made each one of them dismount and take off hissaddle and throw it in the pile; then I had them mount again and drovethem with curses toward London, and very glad they were to escape."

  "He did not get the papers again," wailed Paddy, who was not taking asjubilant a view of the world as was Jem at that moment.

  "I knew nothing of the papers," protested Bottles. "If you had told meabout the papers, I would have had them, and if I had been carryingthe papers these fellows would not have made away with them."

  "Then," said the horrified priest, "you did not commit this action inpunishment for the injury done to your friend? You knew nothing ofthat at the time. You set on these men thinking they were simpletravellers."

  "O, I knew nothing of what happened to Paddy till later, but you see,your Reverence, these men themselves were thieves and robbers. Intheir case it was nine men against one poor half-witted Irish lad--"

  "Half-witted yourself," cried Paddy angrily.

  "But you, sir," continued his Reverence, "were simply carrying out theaction of a highwayman. Sir, you _are_ a highwayman."

  "I was, your Reverence, but I have reformed."

  "And this pile of saddles attests your reformation!" said the old man,shaking his head.

  "But you see, your Reverence, this is the way to look at it--"

  "Keep quiet, Jem!" cried I in disgust.

  "How can I keep quiet," urged Bottles, "when I am unjustly accused? Ido not deny that I was once a highwayman, but Mr. O'Ruddy converted meto better ways--"

  "Highways," said Paddy, adding, with a sniff, "Half-witted!"

  "Your Reverence, I had no more intention of robbing those men than youhave at this moment. I didn't know they were thieves themselves. Thenwhat put it into my head to jump into the wood and on with a maskbefore you could say, Bristol town? It's the mysterious ways ofProvidence, your Reverence. Even I didn't understand it at the time,but the moment I heard Paddy's tale I knew at once I was but aninstrument in the hand of Providence, for I had not said, 'Stand anddeliver!' this many a day, nor thought of it."

  "It may be so; it may be so," murmured the priest, more to himselfthan to us; but I saw that he was much troubled, so, getting up, Isaid to Paddy:

  "Are you able to ride farther on to-day?"

  "If I'd another sup from the cup, sir, I think I could," whereat JemBottles laughed again, and I gave them both a drink of wine.

  "What are you going to do with all this saddlery?" said I to Bottles.

  "I don't know anything better than to leave it here; but I think, yourhonour, the pistols will come handy, for they're all very good ones,and Paddy and me can carry them between us, or I can make two bagsfrom these leather packs, and Paddy could carry the lot in them, as Ido the swords."

  "Very well," I said. "Make your preparations as quickly as you can andlet us be off, for this latest incident, in spite of you, Jem, maylead to pursuit and get us into trouble before we are ready for it."

  "No fear, sir," said Jem confidently. "One thief does not layinformation against another. If they had been peaceable travellers,that would be another thing; but, as I said, Providence is protectingus, no doubt because of the presence of his Reverence here, and notfor our own merits."

  "Be thankful it is the reward of some one else's merits you, reap,Bottles, instead of your own. No more talk now, but to horse andaway."

  For some miles Father Donovan rode very silently. I told him somethingof my meeting with Jem Bottles and explained how I tried to make anhonest man of him, while this was the first lapse I had known sincehis conversion. I even pretended that I had some belief in his owntheory of the interposition of Providence, and Father Donovan wasevidently struggling to acquire a similar feeling, although he seemedto find some difficulty in the contest. He admitted that this robberyappeared but even justice; still he ventured to hope that Jem Bottleswould not take the coincidence as a precedent, and that he would nevermistake the dictates of Providence for the desires of his own nature.

  "I will speak with the man later," he said, "and hope that my wordswill make some impression upon him. There was a trace of exaltation inhis recital that showed no sign of a contrite spirit."

  On account of the delay at the roadside it was well past twelveo'clock before we reached Maidstone, and there we indulged in a gooddinner that put heart into all of us, while the horses had time torest and feed. The road to Rye presented no difficulties whatever, butunder ordinary conditions I would have rested a night beforetravelling to the coast. There would be a little delay before the Earldiscovered the useless nature of the papers which he had been at suchexpense to acquire, but after the discovery there was no doubt in mymind that he would move upon Brede as quickly as horses could carryhis men, so I insisted upon pressing on to Rye that night, and wereached the town late with horses that were very tired. It was a longdistance for a man of the age of Father Donovan to travel in a day,but he stood the journey well, and enjoyed his supper and his winewith the best of us.

  We learned that there was no boat leaving for France for several days,and this disquieted me, for I would have liked to see Father Donovanoff early next morning, for I did not wish to disclose my project tothe peace-loving man. I must march on Brede next day if I was to getthere in time, and so there was no longer any possibility ofconcealing my designs. However, there was no help for it, and Iresolved to be up bright and early in the morning and engage a dozenmen whom I could trust to stand by me. I also intended to purchaseseveral cartloads of provisions, so that if a siege was attempted wecould not be starved out. All this I would accomplish at as early anhour as possible, get the carts on their way to Brede, and march atthe head of the men myself; so I went to bed with a somewhat troubledmind, but fell speedily into a dreamless sleep nevertheless, and slepttill broad daylight.