nd
deliberately loaded a pair of horse-pistols, weapons Mel had worn in his
holsters in the heroic days gone; and with these she stepped downstairs
straight to the cellar, carrying a lantern at her girdle. She could not
only load, but present and fire. Dandy was foremost in stating that
she called him forth steadily, three times, before the pistol was
discharged. He admitted that he was frightened, and incapable of speech,
at the apparition of the tall, terrific woman. After the third time of
asking he had the ball lodged in his leg and fell. Mrs. Mel was in
the habit of bearing heavier weights than Dandy. She made no ado about
lugging him to a chamber, where, with her own hands (for this woman had
some slight knowledge of surgery, and was great in herbs and drugs) she
dressed his wound, and put him to bed; crying contempt (ever present
in Dandy's memory) at such a poor creature undertaking the work of
housebreaker. Taught that he really was a poor creature for the work,
Dandy, his nursing over, begged to be allowed to stop and wait on Mrs.
Mel; and she who had, like many strong natures, a share of pity for the
objects she despised, did not cast him out. A jerk in his gait, owing to
the bit of lead Mrs. Mel had dropped into him, and a little, perhaps, to
her self-satisfied essay in surgical science on his person, earned him
the name he went by.

When her neighbours remonstrated with her for housing a reprobate, Mrs.
Mel would say: 'Dandy is well-fed and well-physicked: there's no harm in
Dandy'; by which she may have meant that the food won his gratitude, and
the physic reduced his humours. She had observed human nature. At any
rate, Dandy was her creature; and the great Mel himself rallied her
about her squire.

'When were you drunk last?' was Mrs. Mel's address to Dandy, as he stood
waiting for orders.

He replied to it in an altogether injured way:

'There, now; you've been and called me away from my dinner to ask me
that. Why, when I had the last chance, to be sure.'

'And you were at dinner in your new black suit?'

'Well,' growled Dandy, 'I borrowed Sally's apron. Seems I can't please
ye.'

Mrs. Mel neither enjoined nor cared for outward forms of respect, where
she was sure of complete subserviency. If Dandy went beyond the limits,
she gave him an extra dose. Up to the limits he might talk as he
pleased, in accordance with Mrs. Mel's maxim, that it was a necessary
relief to all talking creatures.

'Now,