صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

WHO MURDERED BEGBIE ?*

A STAGE-COACH ROMANCE.

*

*

* While meditating in this

mood upon various matters, the driver descended from his dicky and opened the door, for the purpose of admitting a couple of passengers into the coach. One of them was a short, stout, dapper, middle-aged man, habited in a green surtout, buckskin small-clothes, and topped boots. By his dialect I perceived he was an Englishman; and from several circumstances in his appearance and conversation, was led to believe him a traveller for some commercial house in London. It is difficult to mistake a bagman-there is always something about him that indicates his profession. I have generally found them—at least, those of the Cockney school-good-humoured, bustling, talkative fellows; fond of smoking, snuffing, and gossip; abound

*

Begbie was porter to one of the banks in Edinburgh: being sent out with a parcel containing five thousand pounds, he was stabbed in the High Street, and robbed of the money. Many years have now elapsed, and up to the present moment no trace has been found of the murderer.

ing in tavern anecdotes, and as communicative concerning themselves as they are inquisitive about others. This was precisely the character of the gentleman in question. Before he had been two minutes in my company, we were as familiar as if we had been acquainted all our lives and by his lively, miscellaneous conversation, I soon forgot what had just given me so much annoyance.

The other passenger was a tall and remarkably thin man, apparently about fifty years of age he was, I think, the most meagre figure I ever saw. The Englishman was struck with his appearance, as well as myself; for he asked him if he was in good health, and with much kindness, proposed to close the window next him, to screen him from the wind, besides offering him the use of his cloak for the journey, and tendering various other civilities. The other appreciated these attentions as they deserved, but assured the worthy bagman that he was in perfect health; and, although delicate to look at, he had in reality nothing to complain of, but ate, drank, slept, and enjoyed himself as much as his neighbours. Nor did his behaviour during the journey appear at variance with this declaration. He was at once lively, goodhumoured, and energetic; spoke a great deal; and seemed much struck with the beauty of the surrounding country. Altogether, he was so agreeable and well-informed, that I felt deep regret when he left us, which he did at the Broom-house Toll, about five miles from Glasgow. I must mention, however,

that, for some minutes before his departure, a deep cloud seemed to fall upon the face of the bagman. He lost, all at once, his talkativeness and good humour, and sat in the corner of the coach, having his eyes fixed upon our fellow-traveller with an expression of mingled curiosity, resentment, and alarm. So much did his agitation prevail, that when the emaciated stranger left the coach, he refused to shake his hand, although it was held out to him for the purpose; and when he was fairly gone, he gave vent to his feeling in a deeply muttered-imprecation. I was confounded, and asked him the meaning of this wonderful change.

66

Sir," said he, "you know not in whose company you have been travelling. I have just recognized in that there man an old friend, or, rather, an old enemy -I smoked him shortly after we left Uddingstone. There is a mystery about him, sir, which the devil himself cannot see through. Blow me! if he did not hocuss me at the Bugle Inn. My friends, Parchment, and Bolus, and Heavystern, can bear witness to some of his doings-that of which I speak was a most wonderful adventure: till this very day it has never been fathomed, and, I believe, never will. Perhaps you would like to hear it. Yes, sir, you shall hear, and hearing it you shall wonder, and wondering you shall tremble. In the meantime I may mention, that that stranger-that living anatomy-that vivified skeleton-half death, half life, half man, half devilis the murderer of Begbie!"

"The murderer of Begbie!" exclaimed I, with astonishment.

"Yes, sir, to be sure that there man hocussed your humble servant, and murdered Begbie."

"Good Heavens! are you positive that what you state concerning Begbie is correct ?"

"As positive, my dear sir, as I am of my own existence. I have the most decisive proof of what I state; and if you will only listen for half an hour, I shall put you in possession of every fact, and unfold a scene, in all respects so extraordinary, that I am certain you have never heard or read of anything to equal it."

So saying, he took a pinch of snuff, hemmed two or three times to clear his throat, and pulling up the coach windows, to keep out the night air, and deaden the noise of the wheels, proceeded as follows:

"I was travelling in my machine-an open gigwhen a dreadful shower of rain compelled me to take refuge at the Bugle Inn, a small but comfortable place of entertainment, half-way between Oxford and Moulsey Hurst. On entering the parlour, I found it occupied by a pleasant little party, consisting of Mr Parchment, the village lawyer, Dr Bolus, the village surgeon, and the Rev. Mr Heavystern, parson of the parish. To these gentlemen I was familiarly known, as it was my custom to put up at the Bugle when in that quarter; and they were all in the habit of occasionally frequenting it during the winter nights, when time-for they were bachelors-hung heavily

6

on their hands. On the present occasion they had met there by agreement, to smoke a few cigars and discuss some knotty point of village politics, over a can of the landlord's best Burton; and, to tell the truth, there could have been no time or place better adapted for such a purpose, for the evening was cold and rainy, precluding all hopes of enjoyment out of doors, and rendering the chimney nook' the most suitable quarter in the world to while away the time. The lawyer was a tall, thin figure, with an expression of countenance strongly satirical; but, withal, shrewd and intelligent. His hair was remarkably plentiful, and as black as jet; while his complexion was sallow, his eyes deeply set in the head, his nose and chin peaked, and his cheeks lank, and strongly marked with a variety of deep wrinkles. He was about fifty years of age, and a confirmed Whig-a regular croaker, who found fault with everything but himself; and vowed, wherever he went, that there was nothing but rottenness and corruption 'in the state of Denmark.'

"The doctor was in every respect the reverse. In stature he did not exceed five feet, was remarkably corpulent, of a ruddy complexion, and perfectly bald. He wore glasses, for he was somewhat short-sighted, and could hardly be said to possess the capability of seeing as far through a millstone as the man that made it. His intellectual vision, moreover, was according to Mr Parchment, as bad as that of his eyes; for he was a Tory, and, consequently, blind to the

« السابقةمتابعة »