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"By the annual pageants by the Lord Mayor's show, and reform in parliament by Burdett's democracy, and the first of April by explanations, and calls for papers by Bartlemy fair, and the minister's budget "Come!
Clap me alongside Adam and I'm a turtle-dove, a babe for innocence and a lamb for meekness! There never was such a murderer born into this wicked world as Adam Penfeather, with a curse! 'Twas he as murdered Black Bartlemy and nine sweet, bright lads arter him, murdered 'em here one by one, and wi' a parchment rove about the neck of each poor corpse, Marty.
"Very well, master," quoth Bartlemy, "I don't regret your goose and cabbage!" and having said this, he ran away as hard as he could, dropping one of his slipshod shoes as he went along, with his master pursuing after, yard stick in hand, whom, however, he soon contrived to outstrip.
The landlord stared at him in astonishment; then, suddenly bursting into a loud laugh, he cried, "Why, gentles all, this fine nobleman is nothing but a tailor! ha! ha!" and he put his hands to his fat sides and shook with laughter. "Be silent, sirrah!" thundered Bartlemy; "or I'll break my yardstick over your shoulders!" "Ha! ha! only hear what he says!" laughed the landlord. "A miserable tailor."
"And now do thou tell us speedily who is this esquire Humphrey whom thou seekest. Mayhap he is as little an esquire as thou art an old woman." Bartlemy looked from face to face, but he answered nothing. At this moment a groom came running from the stables. "Master! master!" he cried, addressing the innkeeper, "the horse of the esquire Humphrey be gone." "Gone, sirrah!" repeated the innkeeper.
The moon rose high, and still Bartlemy snored, when, all of a sudden, he was roused by a smart blow on the shoulder from what he could have sworn was a yard stick. "Needles and pins!" cried Bartlemy, sitting up in haste; "what's that?" "Bartlemy Bowbell," croaked a strange voice, "look at me."
But, as she turned to fly me, I caught her back to me and, madman that I was, bent her backward across my knee that I might look down into her eyes; and, meeting my look, she folded her hands upon her bosom and closing her eyes, spoke broken and humbled: "Take take your will of me Black Bartlemy I am not brave enough to stab you as she did "
His bell-button thimbles fell off, his flat nose became long and sharp, his thread hair gave place to a bald pate, and his whole appearance became wonderfully like Bartlemy's master. He raised his yardstick, brought it down with a tremendous crack and Bartlemy WOKE! Yes! he was lying under the tree where he had thrown himself down the night before.
While this was a-doing I stared up at the pimento tree, and bethinking me of Black Bartlemy and the poor Spanish lady and of my hateful dream, I felt sudden great shame, for here had I crushed my lady in arms as cruel well-nigh as his. This put me to such remorse that I might not lie still and strove to rise up, yet got no further than my knees; and 'twas thus she found me. "Why must she weep?"
Over it they went, and had just started on their journey from its southern end when, in haste, old Bartlemy, clad as the nurse, arrived at the White Horse. He had slowly and laboriously counted his gold pieces three times before it occurred to him that one hundred and fifty of these treasures was no great sum.
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