But fancy our astonishment
when, suddenly, this Sarmatian horse-tamer, coming round with his four
pair at a canter, and being opposite our box, gave a start, and a--hupp!
which made all his horses stop stock-still at an instant.
"Albert!" screamed my dear Jemmy: "Albert! Bahbahbah--baron!" The
Sarmatian looked at her for a minute; and turning head over heels, three
times, bolted suddenly off his horses, and away out of our sight.
It was HIS EXCELLENCY THE BARON DE PUNTER!
Jemmy went off in a fit as usual, and we never saw the Baron again; but
we heard, afterwards, that Punter was an apprentice of Franconi's, and
had run away to England, thinking to better himself, and had joined Mr.
Richardson's army; but Mr. Richardson, and then London, did not agree
with him; and we saw the last of him as he sprung over the barriers at
the Tuggeridgeville tournament.
"Well, Jemimarann," says Jemmy, in a fury, "you shall marry Tagrag;
and if I can't have a baroness for a daughter, at least you shall be a
baronet's lady." Poor Jemimarann only sighed: she knew it was of no use
to remonstrate.
Paris grew dull to us after this, and we were more eager than ever to
go back to London: for what should we hear, but that that monster,
Tuggeridge, of the City--old Tug's black son, forsooth!--was going to
contest Jemmy's claim to the property, and had filed I don't know how
many bills against us in Chancery! Hearing this, we set off immediately,
and we arrived at Boulogne, and set off in that very same "Grand Turk"
which had brought us to France.
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