near
three hundred pounds: to which Mr. Macshane said they had as just and
honourable a right as anybody else. And so they had as just a right as
anybody--except the original owners: but who was to discover them?

With this booty they set out on their journey--anywhere, for they knew
not whither; and it so chanced that when their horse's shoe came off,
they were within a few furlongs of the cottage of Mr. Billings, the
blacksmith. As they came near, they were saluted by tremendous roars
issuing from the smithy. A small boy was held across the bellows, two or
three children of smaller and larger growth were holding him down, and
many others of the village were gazing in at the window, while a man,
half-naked, was lashing the little boy with a whip, and occasioning the
cries heard by the travellers. As the horse drew up, the operator looked
at the new-comers for a moment, and then proceeded incontinently with
his work; belabouring the child more fiercely than ever.

When he had done, he turned round to the new-comers and asked how he
could serve them? whereupon Mr. Wood (for such was the name he adopted,
and by such we shall call him to the end) wittily remarked that however
he might wish to serve THEM, he seemed mightily inclined to serve that
young gentleman first.

"It's no joking matter," said the blacksmith: "if I don't serve him so
now, he'll be worse off in his old age. He'll come to the gallows, as
sure as his name is Bill---never mind what his name is." And so saying,
he gave the urchin another cut; which elicited, of course, another
scream.

"Oh! his name is Bill?" said Captain Wood.

"His name's NOT Bill!" said the blacksmith, sulkily. "He's no name; and
no heart, neither. My wife took the brat in, seven years ago, from a
beggarly French chap to nurse, and she kept him, for she was a good
soul" (here his eyes began to wink), "and she's--she's gone now" (here
he began fairly to blubber). "And d--- him, out of love for her, I kept
him too, and the scoundrel is a liar and a thief. This blessed day,
merely to vex me and my boys here, he spoke ill of her, he did, and
I'll--cut--his--life--out--I--will!" and with each word honest Mulciber
applied a whack on the body of little Tom Billings; who, by shrill
shrieks, and oaths in treble, acknowledged the receipt of the blows.

"Come, come," said Mr. Wood, "set the boy down, and the bellows a-going;
my horse wants shoeing, and the poor lad has had strapping enough.