THE MODERN BRIGAND.

(FRAGMENT FROM THE ADVENTURES OF A RANSOMED PRISONER.)

I must confess I was agreeably surprised at the treatment to which I was subjected by my capturers.  Instead of being loaded with chains and confined in a cell beneath the castle’s moat, I was given perfect liberty, and had quite a pleasant suite of rooms.  I should scarcely have known that I was in durance had not one of the less refined of the brigands shown me a revolver, and playfully informed me that its contents were intended for me if I attempted to escape.  The Chief was absolutely charming.  He treated me in the most courteous manner, and ended his first interview with me by requesting “the honour of my company at dinner.”

“You need not dress!” he observed, “although I like to put on a tail-coat myself.  But I know that you have had some difficulty with my people about your luggage, and so I shall be only too delighted to excuse grande tenue.”

The “difficulty” to which my host referred was the seizing of my portmanteau by the gang of thieves of which he was the acknowledged head.  I suggested that I might possibly recover some of its contents.

“I am afraid not,” returned the Chieftain.  “You see my people are very methodical, and by this time I fear all the goods will have been sold.  The motto of the Club is ‘small profits and quick returns.’  We find no difficulty in trading.  As we carry on business on the most economical principles, we can quote prices even cheaper than the Stores.”

And this I found to be the case.  Although the brigands were very civil to me, I was unable to trace any of my property.  However, as my host in the kindest manner had allowed me to dispense with ceremony, I ventured to appear at dinner-time in my ordinary tourist’s dress.

“I am delighted to see you,” said the Chief, speaking English for the first time, “as you are now my guest, I must confess that we are fellow countrymen.”

“Indeed!” I replied, considerably astonished.  “If you are really of British nationality, how is it that I find you a professional thief?”

“You are mistaken,” returned the Chief.  “I merely belong to a society for the redistribution of capital.  You know we are all balloted for, and I was myself afraid that I might get pilled.”

“Indeed!” I exclaimed, in a tone of surprise.  “Surely your accomplishments—­for I noticed, on my arrival, that you were a first-rate hand at lawn tennis, and played the flute—­would have secured your admission?”

“Well,” he returned with a smile, “I fancy they helped me with the Committee.  But unhappily my antecedents were bad—­I had made a fortune on the London Stock Exchange, and my books were scarcely as satisfactory as our bandit auditors could have desired them to be.  However they took a kindly view of the case, and allowed me to pass through.  But pardon me, I see your ransom has arrived.  I am afraid I must say good bye.  A pleasant journey.”