Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

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And with these words the honest farmer mounted his gray mare, which was standing at the door of the hostelry, and trotted off in company with two friends, similarly mounted.

“I be downright glad he’s sold his whate,” said one of the rustics. “He aint all eyes and ears like some measters, and he knows how to let a poor man off his first fault.”

“He was one of us once, ye see, sir,” said another, addressing himself to Peace. “He’s bin taught to eat poor man’s bread and to do poor man’s work, and he knows what it is as comforts a poor man’s heart. It is only such as he as pities the poor. The rich and idle don’t pity, know not what hard work, nor hunger, nor sufferin’s loike.”

“Aye-that be true enough,” said Nat. “He’s as good as gold, an’ his ’art be in the right place.”

“I hope he’ll get home safe and sound,” said Peace; “but I suppose there aint many robbers about this part?”

“Lord, love ye, no—​never a one,” cried several voices.

“You’ve forgotten young Measter Boucher,” quavered the aged Nat. “I be an old man, but I mind things better nor you do, seemingly. He was a drivin’ home from Bilstoke Fair, and just as he was agoin’ up a bit of a hill, with trees on both sides, he felt heavy on his chest, as if he had a fit comin’ on, only instead of a fit it was a stout rope, which two men held across the road, and tiddled him over out of his gig. And when he was down they was on him in a minnit, and plundered him of his watch and ten yellow sovereigns.”