Page:Thomas De Quincey The Defier of Ghosts Manuscript.pdf/4

 “Well; but now in other aspects,—you understand me, boy,—what sort of character ? Pretty good,—ah?”

“Oh, very bad, your worship; very bad character; shocking character, your worship.”

“You don’t say so, boy? You don’t say so?—But why didn’t you tell me before I set off? But I say, boy, do you know what I mean? Are  there ever any footpads seen on these roads—any highwaymen—robbers, or what is it you call ’em?”

“Oh Lord, your honor, plenty; according to season, plenty: of a clear night I’ve seen ’em stand behind the hedges as rank as blackberries.”

“Is it possible?”

“Aye sure enough: but we don’t call robbers in these parts: we call un murderers, if it please your worship.”

“Murderer! Why, boy, surely you’re dreaming. You don’t mean to say that they ever go so far as to kill people?”

“Why ax any body, your honor. : on dark winter nights, the like of this, many’s the throat that has been cut in these lanes. Else, what’s the meaning of the gibbets that stand a mile futher on; and the nine pretty  that are dancing upon nothing to the music of their own chains? Egad, I hear ’em now. But there’s an ugly bit of road, two miles ahead, where your honor may chance to see something worse.”

“Worse, boy!—what can be worse?”

“Boggarts, your honor.”

“Boggarts! what are boggarts? I never heard of such things.”

“Ghosts, and please your worship.”