The Plays of W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson

Chapter 13

Chapter 13570 wordsPublic domain

LAWSON, HUNT

[LAWSON (_entering_). Step your ways in, Officer. (_At wing_.) Mr. Carfrae, give a chair to yon decent wife that cam’ in wi’ me. Nae news?

A VOICE WITHOUT. Naething, sir.

LAWSON (_sitting_). Weel, Officer, and what can I do for you?]

HUNT. Well, sir, as I was saying, I’ve an English warrant for the apprehension of one Jemmy Rivers, _alias_ Captain Starlight, now at large within your jurisdiction.

LAWSON. That’ll be the highwayman?

HUNT. That same, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal. The Captain’s given me a hard hunt of it this time. I dropped on his marks first at Huntingdon, but he was away North, and I had to up and after him. I heard of him all along the York road, for he’s a light hand on the pad, has Jemmy, and leaves his mark. [I missed him at York by four-and-twenty hours, and lost him for as much more. Then I picked him up again at Carlisle, and we made a race of it for the Border; but he’d a better nag, and was best up in the road; so I had to wait till I ran him to earth in Edinburgh here and could get a new warrant.] So here I am, sir. They told me you were an active sort of gentleman, and I’m an active man myself. And Sir John Fielding, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, he’s an active gentleman, likewise, though he’s blind as a himage, and he desired his compliments to you, [sir, and said that between us he thought we’d do the trick].

LAWSON. Ay, he’ll be a fine man, Sir John. Hand me owre your papers, Hunt, and you’ll have your new warrant _quam primum_. And see here, Hunt, ye’ll aiblins have a while to yoursel’, and an active man, as ye say ye are, should aye be grinding grist. We’re sair forfeuchen wi’ our burglaries. _Non constat de personâ_. We canna get a grip o’ the delinquents. Here is the _Hue and Cry_. Ye see there is a guid two hundred pounds for ye.

HUNT. Well, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal [I ain’t a rich man, and two hundred’s two hundred. Thereby, sir], I don’t mind telling you I’ve had a bit of a worry at it already. You see, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, I had to look into a ken to-night about the Captain, and an old cock always likes to be sure of his walk; so I got one of your Scotch officers—him as was so polite as to show me round to Mr. Brodie’s—to give me full particulars about the ’ouse, and the flash companions that use it. In his list I drop on the names of two old lambs of my own; and I put it to you, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, as a genleman as knows the world, if what’s a black sheep in London is likely or not to be keeping school in Edinburgh?

LAWSON. _Coelum non animum_. A just observe.

HUNT. I’ll give it a thought, sir, and see if I can’t kill two birds with one stone. Talking of which, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal, I’d like to have a bit of a confab with that nice young woman as came to pay her rent.

LAWSON. Hunt, that’s a very decent woman.

HUNT. And a very decent woman may have mighty queer pals, Mr. Procurator-Fiscal. Lord love you, sir, I don’t know what the profession would do without ’em!

LAWSON. Ye’re vera richt, Hunt. An active and a watchful officer. I’ll send her in till ye.