“What say you to Cartouche?” said S——k; “was he a coward?”
“Not sure but he was,” said S——th; “he kept a band of blackguards and received their pay, but he was seldom seen in the wild melee himself. He was fond of the name of terror he bore; but then, as he listened to the wonderful things the Parisian blanchisseuses and chiffonniers and gamins said of him, he knew he was not recognisable, for the very reason that he kept out of sight.”
“Oh yes,” said W——pe, who joined S——k; “and so he was like Wallace, who kept out of the sight of the English, and yet delighted in Dundee to hear himself spoken of by the crowds who collected in these troublesome times to discuss public affairs. S——th, you know Wallace was a coward, don’t you?”
“A thorough poltroon,” cried S——th, laughing; “ay, and all the people in Scotland are wrong about him. Didn’t he run off, after stabbing the governor’s son? and he was always skulking about the Cartland Crags. Then, didn’t he flee at the battle of Falkirk; and was he not a robber when Scotland belonged to Longshanks? No doubt the fellow had a big body, strong bones, and good thews; but that he had the real pluck that nerved the little bodies of such men as Nelson, or Suwarrow, ay, or of Napoleon, I deny.” Then he began a ludicrous singing, see-saw recitation of the English doggrel—
“The noble wight,
The Wallace dight,
Who slew the knight
On Beltane night,
And ran for fright
Of English might,
And English fight,
And English right;”
and so on in drunken ribaldry.
“All very well for you who are a Shamite, Shmite, Shmith, Smith,” said W——pe. “We happen to be Japhetites. Then what say you to Rob Roy?”
“That, in the first place,” replied S——th, “he was a Shemite; for Gathelus, the first Scottish monarch, was a grandson of Nimrod, and, what is worse, he married Scota, the daughter of an Egyptian queen, so there was a spice of Ham in Rob; and as all the Hamites were robbers, Rob was a robber too;—as to whose cowardice there is no doubt whatever; for a man who steals another man’s cattle in the dark must be a coward. Did you ever hear one single example of Rob attacking when in good daylight, and fighting for them in the sun?”
“Ingenious, S——th, at any rate,” roared S——k; “but I don’t agree with you. A robber on the highway, must, in the general case, have courage. He braves public opinion, he laughs at the gallows, and he throws himself right against a man in bold competition, without knowing often whether he is a giant or a dwarf.”
“All the elements of a batter pudding,” cried S——th, “without the battering principle. Ay, you forget the head-battering bludgeon, the instantaneous pistol, or the cunning knife; none of all which would a man with a spark of courage in him use against an unarmed, defenceless traveller. Another thing you forget, the robber acts upon surprises. He produces confusion by his very presentation, fear by his demand of life or money; and when the poor devil’s head is running round, he runs away with his watch or his purse, perhaps both. ’Tis all selfishness, pure unadulterated selfishness; and will you tell me that a man without a particle of honesty or generosity can have courage?”