112 THE BATH ROAD 



autecedeiits, had been too frequently in action with 

 hosts of enemies to care for footpads and such scum, 

 alighting from a post-chaise, entered the wayside sign 

 of the Plough, and laying down a pair of large horse- 

 pistols, called loudly for brandy-and-water. 



Only one guest was in the room — a broad-hatted 

 and drab-suited Quaker— who, in the most sedate 

 manner, was satisfying his appetite with a modest 

 meal. The traveller, swaggering in and laying down 

 his weapons on the table in such close proximity 

 to the edibles, startled the man of peace, who shrank 

 from them in very terror. 



" Oh, my friend," says the traveller, " 'tis folks who 

 fear to carry arms give opportunities to the highway- 

 men. If they went protected as I do, what occasion 

 would there be to fear any man, even Hawkes him- 

 self?" And then, with an abundance of oaths, he 

 protested that not half a dozen highwaymen should 

 avail to deprive him of a single sixpence. The Quaker, 

 meanwhile, continued his humble refection, now and 



ao-ain o-lancino- from his bread and cheese at his most 



'"' • 111* 



noisy and demonstrative companion, who drank his 



brandy-and-water stalking up and down the apartment. 

 Presently, his drink exhausted, and his eloquence 

 thrown away upon friend Broadbrim — who he at once 

 conceived to be so quiet because he had nothiug to 

 lose — he unceremoniously turned his back and sat 

 down upon a chair to examine the valuables he carried 

 about his person. Having satisfied himself of their 

 safety, he snatched up his pistols, and, with an im- 

 patient exclamation, strode ofi" to the bar, and was 

 paying for his liquor and gossiping, when the silent 



