frequently with discomfiture; and it rarely happened, unless by stratagem or bribery, that (in the language of the gentlemen of the short staff) an important caption could be effected. In order to guard against accidents or surprises, watchmen, or scouts, (as they were styled,) were stationed at the three main outlets of the sanctuary ready to give the signal in the manner just described: bars were erected, which, in case of emergency; could be immediately stretched across the streets: doors were attached to the alleys; and were never opened without due precautions; gates were affixed to the courts, wickets to the gates, and bolts to the wickets. The back windows of the houses (where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, furthermore, defended by high walls and deep ditches in those quarters where it appeared most exposed. There was also a Maze, (the name is still retained in the district,) into which the debtor could run, and through the intricacies of which it was impossible for an officer to follow him, without a clue. Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered to depart without giving a satisfactory account of himself, or producing a pass from the Master. In short, every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was resorted to by this horde of reprobates to secure themselves from danger or molestation. Whitefriars had lost its privileges; Salisbury Court and the Savoy no longer offered places of refuge to the debtor; and it was, therefore, doubly requisite that the Island of Bermuda (as the Mint was termed by its occupants) should uphold its rights, as long as it was able to do so.
Mr. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. Aware that not a moment was to be lost, if he meant to render any effectual assistance to the child, he ceased shouting, and defending himself in the best way he could from the attacks of Rowland, by whom he was closely pressed, forced his way, in spite of all opposition, to Davies, and dealt him a blow on the head with such good will that, had it not been for the intervention of the wall, the ruffian must have been prostrated. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily.
At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold.
“He has escaped!” exclaimed the knight; “we have searched every corner of the house without finding a trace of him.”
“Back!” cried Rowland. “Don’t you hear those shouts? Yon fellow’s clamour has brought the whole horde of jail-birds and cut-throats that infest this place about our ears. We shall be torn in pieces if we are discovered. Davies!” he added, calling to the attendant, who was menacing Wood with a severe retaliation, “don’t heed him; but, if you value a whole skin, come into the house, and bring that woman with you. She may afford us some necessary information.”
Davies reluctantly complied. And, dragging Mrs. Sheppard, who made no resistance, along with him, entered the house, the door of which was instantly shut and barricaded.
A moment afterwards, the street was illumined by a blaze of torchlight, and a tumultuous uproar, mixed with the clashing of weapons, and the braying of horns, announced the arrival of the first detachment of Minters.
Mr. Wood rushed instantly to meet them.
“Hurrah!” shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. “Saved!”
“Ay, ay, it’s all bob, my covey! You’re safe enough, that’s certain!” responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; “but, where are the lurchers?”
“Who?” asked Wood.
“The traps!” responded a bystander.
“The shoulder-clappers!” added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband’s nether habiliments for her own petticoats.
“The ban-dogs!” thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of “The long drover of the Borough market.” “Where are they?”
“Ay, where are they?” chorussed the mob, flourishing their various weapons, and flashing their torches in the air; “we’ll starve ’em out.”
Mr. Wood trembled. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. He knew not what to say, or what to do; and his confusion was increased by the threatening gestures and furious looks of the ruffians in his immediate vicinity.
“I don’t understand you, gentlemen,” stammered he, at length.
“What does he say?” roared the long drover.
“He says he don’t understand flash,” replied the lady in gentleman’s attire.
“Cease your confounded clutter!” said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. “You frighten the cull out of his senses. It’s plain he don’t understand our lingo; as, how should he? Take pattern by me;” and as he said this he strode up to the carpenter, and, slapping him on the shoulder, propounded the following questions, accompanying each interrogation with a formidable contortion of countenance. “Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!”
“Silence, Blueskin!” interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. “Let me have a word with the cull!”
“Ay! ay!” cried several of the bystanders, “let Jonathan kimbaw the cove. He’s got the gift of the gab.”
The crowd accordingly drew aside, and the individual, in whose behalf the movement had been made immediately stepped forward. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. The nose was long and sharp, the chin pointed, the forehead broad and flat, and connected, without any intervening hollow, with the eyelid; the teeth when displayed, seemed to reach from ear to ear. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. This astute personage was somewhat under the middle size, but fairly proportioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry, and abounding more in muscle than in flesh.
It would seem, from the attention which he evidently bestowed upon the hidden and complex machinery of the grand system of villany at work around him, that his chief object in taking up his quarters in the Mint, must have been to obtain some private information respecting the habits and practices of its inhabitants, to be turned to account hereafter.
Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs.
“Not that I know of,” replied the carpenter, who had in some degree recovered his confidence.
“Then I presume you’ve not been arrested?”
“I have not,” answered Wood firmly.
“I guessed as much. Perhaps you’ll next inform us why you have occasioned this disturbance.”
“Because this child’s life was threatened by the persons you have mentioned,” rejoined Wood.
“An excellent reason, i’ faith!” exclaimed Blueskin, with a roar of surprise and indignation, which was echoed by the whole assemblage. “And so we’re to be summoned from our beds and snug firesides, because a kid happens to squall, eh? By the soul of my grandmother, but this is too good!”
“Do you intend to claim the privileges of the Mint?” said Jonathan, calmly pursuing his interrogations amid the uproar. “Is your person in danger?”