Revenge of an Englishman Read online

  The passenger that sat across from me was the woman. She had a scarf covering her face to protect her skin from the cold air of the night but her eyes were wide. I could tell she was afraid. When I spoke to her she glanced at me quickly and then turned her attention to back outside the carriage. I repeated the question to her but she didn't respond. After she failed to answer me, I then asked the second passenger in the carriage.

  "Ghosts, they say. I heard them say this part of the road is haunted," the male passenger responded to me. “I was cynical, but I swear I heard a weird whistling sound not too long ago.”

  In honesty, the fact that the other occupants of the coach feared ghosts being near the road was quite a relief to me. I was not as superstitious as the fellow passengers were and upon finding out that the fear generated in our carriage was due to the supposed threat of some supernatural attack calmed my nerves. No ghost could do us harm because ghosts do not exist. I'm not even sure what the musket in the hands of the guard would have been able to achieve if such another worldly spirit existed and came upon us. I doubted that bullets would have had any effect on them. Content in the new knowledge that our supposed threat was apparently from evil spirits, I curled back into a comfortable ball and closed my eyes.

  The second time I fell asleep I must have been asleep for at least two or three hours. When I began to awaken I could see light from the morning sun coming over the horizon. The guard and the driver were back in a lively conversation, with the musket that had been in the guard's hand securely put somewhere out of sight. The two passengers that had been awake, and in fear for their lives, were now fast asleep. All of the moods of the party that I was travelling with had mellowed.

  After a few miles, I felt my stomach begin to rumble. I hadn't eaten since I left Plymouth the morning before so I took the wicker basket that was at my feet and began to eat some of the buns and small loaves of brown bread that were in the basket. Despite the passing of hours since the bread and buns had been baked, they remained quite soft and they still retained their deliciousness. Before, I had complimented the driver out of kindness to win his good favour, but now I meant it. As I ate the food my attention turned to the driver and the guard who I imagined must have been tired and cold.

  "Gentlemen, would you like some food? The contents of this basket are too large for me alone. Although they are delicious, I won't be able to finish it by myself."

  Both the guard and the driver did not refuse my polite offer and they both said that they had tasted the delights of the baker's work many times. They said they could not refuse such a delicious treat after such a long night.

  "Three or four hours and we should be in Bath, good sir," the driver said to me.

  I thanked him for the information and he told me that I should try and rest some more. However, I knew that I had nodded off twice during the night, and sleeping a third time was highly unlikely. Even the cold air that had plagued much of the evening and night was starting to leave and in its place was an agreeable temperature.

  For another hour the stagecoach travelled through the darkness of night, with the morning light slightly increasing with each passing minute. After the hour had passed, and the morning sun was present, the driver suggested that the three lanterns on the carriage should be extinguished as they had served their purpose throughout the darkness and they were no longer of any use. The driver also commented on the fact that he needed to relieve his bowels and that a spot behind the bushes was probably the best location to get rid of such waste.

  Much of the journey had been travelled on a straight and quiet road. These types of roads were created by the Romans many centuries ago when they invaded England, but I could see that up ahead the road began to bend and that there were several hills in front of us. I thought that a small rest now for the horses, while the lanterns were extinguished and the driver did his business in the bushes, was a good idea. The horses had worked hard throughout the night and they had trotted on despite the coldness and the fear that the five passengers they carried had felt at different intervals throughout the night.

  The driver who was seated on the left side of the carriage slowed the horses down with the use of his reigns before pulling the lever on the carriage to stop the wheels of the stagecoach from turning. The brake created a slight jolt that made the woman passenger across from me wake up. After the carriage and the horses had stopped, both the guard and the driver got down from the carriage and the movement and unloading of bodies from carriage made the wooden frame creak and vibrate. As minor as the vibration was, it was enough to wake the second passenger, the man.

  I said good morning to the two passengers and they said good morning in response. I offered them a bun, a cake or a delicious piece of bread to help them wake up and shake off the grogginess that comes from sleep. They both thanked me for the offer but kindly refused. I took the refusal without any problem as I had expected just as much.

  The guard blew out all three lanterns and then stretched his arms high into the air. He then twisted his body from side to side and shook his legs and feet. The travelling had made him stiff and I could relate to that feeling. The guard walked around the carriage a couple of times and loudly inhaled and exhaled the air into his lungs. Then he went and stood beside the four horses that had pulled the carriage through the night. He stroked the mane of one and then patted another on its head.

  "We're almost there you beautiful creatures. Just another couple of hours then we'll get you fed and rested. You did well tonight as you do every night," the guard said to the horses in a soothing tone.

  The guard then turned to us passengers and relayed the same information. We all thanked him in mumbled sounds but before he could receive our thanks he turned his attention away from us and back onto the horses. Thus far he had touched and petted the horses on the right side of the carriage and now he turned his attention to the two mares that were connected to the left side of the carriage.

  The driver had wandered off into the bushes in search of a quiet place to dispose of his waste and had done so as the guard began blowing out the lanterns. However, considerable time passed without the driver returning or making any indication of his status or whereabouts known. Regardless of his dietary habits or lifestyle, I couldn't believe that anyone would need that much time to do their business. I suspected that there was something more at play, although I seemed to be the only person in the party to believe so. My two fellow passengers sat comfortably without any protective clothing now over their heads and they wore an expression of contentment on their faces. Likewise, the guard was enjoying the morning air and the closeness he had with the horses.

  "My time in captivity has made me a pessimist. Don't over-think the situation, nothing is wrong," I thought to myself.

  Five minutes passed by without any sign of the driver's return. Then ten minutes passed by and then fifteen. The calm expressions that had been on the guard and two passengers had now dissipated and they looked even more uneasy than I felt. The guard who had remained near the horses for the entire duration of our wait, finally moved to the front of the carriage after the fifteen minutes of waiting for the driver to return had elapsed. He moved into the box where he and the driver had spent the duration of the journey and he knelt and tried to retrieve an object that he had neatly stuffed away. He fidgeted his arms trying to manoeuvre the object out of its resting place and into the grip of his hands, but from my sitting position inside the carriage, I could not see what he was trying to get his hands on.

  "Put it down and step away from the carriage," a voice shouted from the bushes. "We have you surrounded, so do it or you and your friends all die."

  The guard immediately paused upon hearing the words from the bushes. Obeying the command of the voice, the guard took a step away from the carriage, and I could now see that he had the musket that he had been wielding during the night in his hand. He put the musket down flat on the road's ground and then took a further two steps away from the weapon. The
guard looked around the foliage that surrounded both sides of the road and tried to find the source of the voice and the voice's accomplices. The guard was unsuccessful on both counts.

  "Now, you three in the carriage, step out, slowly. Keep your hands visible at all times. If I see you do anything suspicious or against my orders then I won't hesitate to shoot you all in the head," the same voice from the bushes barked the new order.

  The woman passenger shrieked with fear after hearing the command of the hidden aggressor. The male passenger didn't seem to handle the situation any better than the female as he wore a shade of white on his face that was akin to a ghost. I felt my knees weaken and an uncomfortable feeling developed in my stomach, but I tried hard to keep my composure. The three of us stepped out of the carriage, keeping our hands firmly raised in the air. We were then ordered to go and stand beside the guard who stood further away from the carriage, in the open. We complied with the new command.

  The bushes where the voice had come from began rattling. The driver of our stagecoach walked out of them and he was immediately followed by a hooded person in black. The person in black was undoubtedly male and he had a pistol pointed at the head of the driver. The hood that the attacker wore hid his hair and forehead and he wore a mask that concealed most of his face, although, his smile was visible to us and it looked menacing. The hooded man told the driver to quickly walk and join us at the side of the road with our hands held high.

  The hooded man moved the barrel of the pistol back and forth between the five of us and the woman let out a sound of distress each time it passed over her. I also heard the guard and the male passenger pray. I remained silent, as too, did the driver.

  "You have a lot of luggage with you. I hope for all your sakes that you have something valuable for me," the hooded man then said to us as he saw our luggage tied securely around the railing at the top of the carriage.

  The hooded man told the driver and the guard to unfasten the luggage from the top of the carriage and to put it on the road. He told them that if they cherished their lives then they would need to work fast. Despite the advice, the guard remained motionless as he had become immobilised by fear. The hooded man repeated his order but still, the guard made no movements. That is when I got involved.

  "I will help bring the luggage down," I said to the hooded man as I took one step forward slowly. I kept my hands visible in the air.

  "You are one of the passengers?" the man asked me. He now pointed the gun solely at me.

  "Yes," I replied.

  "One of these trunks belongs to you?"

  "Yes," again I responded in the affirmative.

  "Well, I am sorry for your loss but I hope you have something valuable for me. You can help this driver take down the trunks and rummage through them and recover anything valuable for me."

  The driver and I then worked together to take the three travelling trunks down from the carriage's roof and we put them gently onto the ground. The hooded man kept a firm watch on us and the three others, his pistol swaying between the two groups. The woman now had tears streaming down her face and the male passenger was visibly shaking uncontrollably. The guard remained motionless but turned a shade of white similar to the male passenger.

  "Don't be distressed. No harm will come to you if you do exactly as I say," the hooded man with the pistol said. "Besides, I am not responsible for this robbery. It is your driver's fault."

  The hooded man then went on to explain that he was a highwayman on this road and occasionally robbed travellers of their valuables. He tried to justify his cruel existence by saying that he did it out of necessity for his family. He stole from honest people because his mother was old and too decrepit to work. His wife died in childbirth and his daughter who was only six years old was constantly cold and hungry. He robbed people because he wanted to survive, but more so because he wanted his loved ones to survive.

  "I've heard the rumour that a ghost haunts this road, but it is just I. Each night I am here awaiting my next victim because my daughter is awaiting her next meal. The fact that you have fallen under my control is just unfortunate for you, but I have no quarrel with you and it is not personal. I promise if you do exactly as I say then no harm will come to any of you."

  When all three trunks were on the road, I was told to open them all and rummage around them taking out anything of value. The first trunk I opened was the woman's and she had some jewellery in the trunk which I immediately took out of the trunk and placed on the road. I then continued searching inside the trunk and found a bottle of perfume that I removed and placed beside the jewellery. The woman sniffled and tears rolled down her face as the highwayman nodded in approval at the contents which I had collected for him. It was clear that the hooded man was going to repossess the woman's valuables. Next, I checked the man's trunk and he had nothing other than some clothes inside of it. He had a nice pair of leather boots that I removed from the trunk, but even they were only something of scarce value. The rest of his trunk was of no value.

  "That's it? There is nothing more there?" the hooded man asked me.

  "Not that I can see," I said as I continued rummaging around the trunk and inspecting the contents within it.

  "Your trunk is the last one, then?" the highwayman said as he turned his attention from the contents of the second trunk and looked at the last trunk which was mine.

  "Yes," I simply stated.

  "Be fast then so I can be on my way. Take out your valuables."

  With the dawn arrived and a new day beginning, it was likely that there would soon be other travellers on the road. I could understand why the hooded man, the highwayman, would want to be far from the road as soon as possible. Every minute he was with us on the road, was another minute and another opportunity for others to come to our aid and for the highwayman to meet his demise. He gestured for me to leave the male passenger's trunk alone and to start on my own to remove all valuables from within it. Following his orders, I then moved on to my travelling trunk and opened it.

  My purse of coins was by my waist so unless the highwayman checked our bodies I was certain that I would be able to retain my money. That was a relief because it was the most valuable thing I possessed. However, the pistol that Francis Farewell gave me was in the trunk and I did not want to forfeit the weapon to the hooded man so easily. I didn't want to give the weapon to the robber because Farewell had given it to me and although I wanted to desperately forget about my cruel time in captivity I wanted to keep the weapon as a reminder of Farewell and the freedom he had granted me. Secondly, I didn't want the highwayman to get possession of my weapon because in his hands it could be used to cause harm to another human and I would feel responsible for his ill-actions. I didn't know how I would manage to conceal it, but I made a decision that I would not allow this bandit to make me part with Farewell's pistol.

  "Hurry up. I won't tell you again," the hooded man yelled at me. His voice breaking slightly as he raised his voice. The extended length of time that he was exposed to the open road was making him increasingly anxious.

  "I don't have anything, only clothes," I said to him.

  "Prove it to me, quickly," he responded.

  I began taking out the contents of my trunk and putting them out on the road. I practically picked my items of clothing and threw them on the road. The pistol and ammunition bag were both halfway down my trunk, under two of my three suits, so I knew that when I withdrew those items from my trunk and placed them on the ground, that if I hid them between some of the clothes, and did it convincingly, then I could conceal the weapon and the trick the highwayman from even knowing that I possessed such a dangerous thing. When I came to grabbing the weapon and ammunition I made sure that they were hidden beneath one of the suits and I placed them more gently on the ground than the other clothing so as not to make any revealing sounds such as the metallic barrel or ammunition balls hitting the road.

  "See? I have nothing," I told the bandit once I successfully emptied my t
runk. He didn't ask questions or look at me accusingly.

  The result of my remark and my rising tone was that the bandit pointed his gun barrel directly at me. I held my position and although his weapon was now aimed at my head I kept staring at the bandit's face. Although his cheeks and forehead were not visible, I could see his eyes and mouth. He wasn't squinting and his mouth didn't snarl like an animal, his facial expression looked like the standard face you would see passing you on the street. It was at this moment when I looked at him and he looked back at me that I figured out that he was not a killer. I had the misfortune of knowing and serving many killers and murderers during my captivity and I looked into the bandit's eyes and I saw that he was a tame pussy cat compared to what I had been against.

  "Your attitude is misplaced," the hooded man began talking, his attention and barrel still both aimed at me. "I was sleeping under an oak tree, with my horse tied to the trunk, when your driver came towards me and started inspecting me. Although I awoke as your driver stood over me, I kept my eyes shut. I then heard him trying to untie and steal my horse from me. That is when I stood up and drew my gun at him, that is why I am here now and robbing you. I did not bring on this event, your driver did. My work for the night was finished and I took a rest among the foliage before I was interrupted."

  When this news broke, the two passengers who travelled in the stagecoach with me began badmouthing the driver and the guard calling them all sorts of unsavoury words. The driver said that he had not intended to steal the horse but he was only observing it. The guard supported the driver's comment and said he believed his innocence. The guard's unwavering support of his partner then resulted in him getting verbally and physically assaulted by the woman passenger who was in tears at the prospect of her valuable jewellery being taken away from her.

  The driver and I were still separated from the other members of our party because we had to unload the trunks. Had the driver been closer to the male and female passenger then I am sure that he would have received a few pushes and slaps to the face, but since he wasn't, the guard suffered for the driver's mistakes.