It was not many days after this that Tom came to me again, evidently in great pain; and, from the broken sentences that escaped him, I learned that as he and his brother Bob were walking in the public road, Chanticleer had met them; and after calling Tom by every abusive name he could think of, had ended by thrashing him with a riding-whip, till the unfortunate youth could scarcely stand. I thought this was carrying the matter too far, so I walked home with him to speak to his father about it. The old gentleman was very much excited at Tom's account of the quarrel; he had not heard a word about it till that day, and said that Chanticleer should pay dearly for what he had done; and as for Tom's mother, she fainted away at first, and ended by urging her husband to prosecute that rascal Chanticleer, even if it cost them their last grain of food. She thought but little of what she was saying then, but she remembered it afterwards.
On that very afternoon old Mr. Leverett and Bob took the railway to Gloucester, and went at once to the celebrated lawyer, Mr. Sharpe Vulture, of Billocost Row. Mr. Vulture, who was just going home to dinner, and was both hungry and savage, heard their story with great impatience, told them to come again the next morning, and bade them good day. He thus saved his dinner hot, and pocketed an extra fee for an additional consultation. His client, little used to lawyers' pleasantries, thought this behaviour very strange; but as he had some relations close by the town, he resolved that he and Bob would spend the night with them, and they told me they were most hospitably entertained.
On the next morning the father and son again called on the celebrated Mr. Sharpe Vulture, and this time with better success, for that worthy recommended that Mr. Leverett should first apply to a magistrate for a warrant against Mr. Chanticleer; and, secondly, that Tom should commence an action against him for the assault.
To both these courses old Leverett offered no opposition; and on Bob's evidence Sir Simon Graveowl, a magistrate of noted wisdom, granted a warrant against Chanticleer, which Mr. Sharpe Vulture immediately gave to an active young policeman to execute. Now, it happened to be market-day at Gloucester, and as Mr. Chanticleer was a large consumer of barley, he usually attended the Corn Exchange during certain hours. This the policeman knew; so no sooner had he received the warrant than he walked straight to Mr. Chanticleer as he stood talking loudly to a large circle of friends and neighbours,--old Mr. Drake, young Mr. Gosling, Mr. Peacock, Mr. Pidgeon, Mr. Swann, and several others,--and forthwith arrested him. Poor Mr. Chanticleer! how crest-fallen he looked! All his crowing was stopped in a moment. He walked by the policeman's side in silence, and looked as much like a culprit as any thief that was ever found with the stolen goods in his possession.