The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses.
“My name is Darrell,” said the fugitive hastily. “But, if you are discovered, answer no questions, as you value your life. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. Remember! not a word!”
So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood’s shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone.
“Mercy on us!” cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his frame. “The Dutchman was right, after all.”
This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears.
“I have him!” cried a voice in triumph.
A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux.
“Mur — der!” roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled.
“Damnation!” exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; “this is not the villain, Sir Cecil.”
“So I find, Rowland,” replied the other, in accents of deep disappointment, and at the same time relinquishing his grasp. “I could have sworn I saw him enter this passage. And how comes his cloak on this knave’s shoulders?”
“It is his cloak, of a surety,” returned Rowland “Harkye, sirrah,” continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; “where is the person from whom you received this mantle?”
“Throttling a man isn’t the way to make him answer questions,” replied the carpenter, doggedly. “You’ll get nothing out of me, I can promise you, unless you show a little more civility.”
“We waste time with this fellow,” interposed Sir Cecil, “and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. Let us search it.”
Just then, the infant began to sob piteously.
“Hist!” cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. “Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found.”
With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood’s back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. In this attempt he was, however, foiled by the agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat to the door, against which he placed his back, kicking the boards vigorously with his heel.
“Joan! Joan!” vociferated he, “open the door, for God’s sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say.”
“Knock him on the head,” thundered Sir Cecil, “or we shall have the watch upon us.”
“No fear of that,” rejoined Rowland: “such vermin never dare to show themselves in this privileged district. All we have to apprehend is a rescue.”
The hint was not lost upon Wood. He tried to raise an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland.
“Another such attempt,” said the latter, “and you are a dead man. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested.”
“I will yield it to no one but its mother,” answered Wood.
“‘Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?” cried Rowland fiercely. “Give me the child, or —”
As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Sheppard staggered forward. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view.
“Take it,” cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; “take it, and fly.”
Mrs. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. But before the child could be committed to her care, it was wrested from the carpenter by Rowland.
“These people are all in league with him,” cried the latter. “But don’t wait for me, Sir Cecil. Enter the house with your men. I’ll dispose of the brat.”
This injunction was instantly obeyed. The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them.
“Davies,” said Rowland, delivering the babe, with a meaning look, to his attendant.
“I understand, Sir,” replied Davies, drawing a little aside. And, setting down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat.
“My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?” said Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise and horror. “Woman, your wits are fled!”
And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, “I can’t find the key.”
“Devil take the key!” ejaculated Wood. “They’re about to murder your child —your child, I tell you! Do you comprehend what I say, Joan?”
“I’ve hurt my head,” replied Mrs. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples.
And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek.
At this moment, Davies, who had completed his preparations, extinguished the torch.
“It’s all over,” groaned Wood, “and perhaps it’s as well her senses are gone. However, I’ll make a last effort to save the poor little creature, if it costs me my life.”
And, with this generous resolve, he shouted at the top of his voice, “Arrest! arrest! help! help!” seconding the words with a shrill and peculiar cry, well known at the time to the inhabitants of the quarter in which it was uttered.
In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street.
“Arrest!” vociferated Wood. “Mint! Mint!”
“Death and hell!” cried Rowland, making a furious pass at the carpenter, who fortunately avoided the thrust in the darkness; “will nothing silence you?”
“Help!” ejaculated Wood, renewing his cries. “Arrest!”
“Jigger closed!” shouted a hoarse voice in reply. “All’s bowman, my covey. Fear nothing. We’ll be upon the ban-dogs before they can shake their trotters!”
And the alarm was sounded more loudly than ever.
Another horn now resounded from the further extremity of the thoroughfare; this was answered by a third; and presently a fourth, and more remote blast, took up the note of alarm. The whole neighbourhood was disturbed. A garrison called to arms at dead of night on the sudden approach of the enemy, could not have been more expeditiously, or effectually aroused. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. Hurrying in the direction of the supposed arrest, they encouraged each other with shouts, and threatened the offending parties with their vengeance.
Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. Sheppard’s door, they were always sufficiently on the alert to maintain their privileges, and to assist each other against the attacks of their common enemy — the sheriff’s officer. It was only by the adoption of such a course (especially since the late act of suppression, to which we have alluded,)