Page:Paul Clifford Vol 3.djvu/119

Rh "Punctually!"

The stranger turned a corner, and was out of sight. Clifford, muttering—"Yes, I was the cause of their apprehension; it was I who was sought; it is but fair that I should strike a blow for their escape, before I attempt my own,"—continued his course till he came to the door of a public-house. The sign of a seaman swung aloft, pourtraying the jolly tar with a fine pewter pot in his hand, considerably huger than his own circumference. An immense pug sat at the door, lolling its tongue out, as if, having stuffed itself to the tongue, it was forced to turn that useful member out of its proper place. The shutters were half closed; but the sounds of coarse merriment issued jovially forth.

Clifford disconcerted the pug; and, crossing the threshold, cried, in a loud tone, "Janseen!"—"Here!" answered a gruff voice; and Clifford, passing on, came to a small parlour adjoining the tap. There, seated by a round oak-table, he found mine host, a red, fierce, weather-beaten, but bloated-looking personage, like Dirk Hatteraick in a dropsy.