There was not much to see but hedgerows and houses and fields as we
jolted slowly on. Once we met what Ike called the "padrole," and the
mounted policeman, in his long cloak and with the scabbard of his sabre
peeping from beneath, looked to me a very formidable personage; but he
was not too important to wish Ike a friendly good-night.
We had passed the horse-patrol about a quarter of a mile, when all at
once we heard some one singing, or rather howling: "I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
This was repeated over and over again, and seemed as we sat there under
our basket canopy to come from some one driving behind us; but the
jolting of the cart and the grinding of wheels and the horse's trampling
drowned the sound of the following vehicle, and there it went on: "I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
But the singer pronounced it Do-ho-ver; and then it went on over and
over again.
"Yes," said Ike, as if he had been talking about something; "them
padroles put a stop to that game."
"What game?" I said.
"Highwaymen's. This used to be one of their fav'rite spots, from here
away to Hounslow Heath. There was plenty of 'em in the old days, with
their spanking horses and their pistols, and their `stand and deliver'
to the coach passengers. Now you couldn't find a highwayman for love or
money, even if you wanted him to stuff and putt in a glass case."
"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
"I wish you'd stopped there," said Ike, in a grumbling voice. "Ah,
those used to be days. That's where Dick Turpin used to go, you know--
Hounslow Heath."
"But there are none now?" I said, with some little feeling of
trepidation.
"Didn't I tell you, no," said Ike, "unless that there's one coming on
behind. How much money have you got, lad?"
"Two shillings and sixpence and some halfpence."
"And I've got five and two, lad. Wouldn't pay to keep a blood-horse to
rob us, would it?"
"No," I said. "Didn't they hang the highwaymen in chains, Ike?"
"To be sure they did. I see one myself swinging about on Hounslow
Heath."
"Wasn't it very horrible?"
"I dunno. Dessay it was. Just look how reg'lar old Bonyparty goes
along, don't he--just in the same part of the road? I dessay he's
a-counting all the steps he takes, and checking of 'em off to see how
many more he's got to go through."
"I've been to Paris and I've been to Dover."
"I say, I wish that chap would pass us--it worries me," cried Ike
pettishly. Then he went on: "Roads warn't at all safe in those days, my
lad. There was footpads too--chaps as couldn't afford to have horses,
and they used to hang under the hedges, just like that there dark one
yonder, and run out and lay holt of the reins, and hold a pistol to a
man's head."