"And so you are bound for London, sir; pray, are you in a hurry to
get there?"
"Not particularly," Barnabas rejoined.
"Then there you have the advantage of me, for I am, sir. But here I
sit, a martyr for conscience sake. Now, sir, if you are in no great
hurry, and have a mind to travel in company with a martyr, just as
soon as I am free of these bilboes, we'll take the road together.
What d' ye say?"
"With pleasure!" answered Barnabas.
"Why then, sir, pray sit down. I blush to offer you the stocks, but
the grass is devilish dewy and damp, and there's deuce a chair to be
had--which is only natural, of course; but pray sit somewhere until
the Bo'sun, like the jolly old dog he is, produces the key, and lets
me out."
"Bo'sun, you'll perceive the gentleman is waiting, and, for that
matter, so am I. The key, Jerry, the key."
"Axing your pardons, gentlemen both," began the Bo'sun, taking
himself by the starboard whisker, "but orders is orders, and I was
to tell you, Master Horatio, sir, as there was firstly a round o'
beef cold, for breakfus!"
"Beef!" exclaimed the prisoner, striking himself on the crown of the
hat.
"Next a smoked tongue--" continued the Bo'sun.
"Tongue!" sighed the prisoner, turning to Barnabas. "You hear that,
sir, my unnatural father and uncle batten upon rounds of beef, and
smoked tongues, while I sit here, my legs at a most uncomfortable
angle, and my inner man as empty as a drum; oh, confound and curse it!"
"A brace o' cold fowl," went on the Bo'sun inexorably; "a biled 'am--"
"Enough, Jerry, enough, lest I forget filial piety and affection and
rail upon 'em for heartless gluttons."
"And," pursued the Bo'sun, still busy with his whisker and
abstracted of eye--"and I were to say as you was now free to come
out of they stocks--"
"Aha, Jerry! even the most Roman of fathers can relent, then. Out
with the key, Jerry! Egad! I can positively taste that beef from here;
unlock me, Jerry, that I may haste to pay my respects to Roman parent,
uncle, and beef--last, but not least, Jerry--"
"Always supposing," added the Bo'sun, giving a final twist to his
whisker, "that you've 'ad time to think better on it, d' ye see, and
change your mind, Master Horatio, my Lord."