CHAPTER XIV
AT BAY
"After him!--stop him!--catch the rogue!" cried Carew, running out onthe cobbles with his ale-can in his hand. "A shilling to the man thatbrings him back unharmed! No blows, nor clubs, nor stabbing, hark 'e,but catch me the knave straightway; he hath snatched a fortune frommy hands!"
At that the hostler, whip in hand, and the tapster with his bit, wereoff as fast as their legs could carry them, bawling "Stop, thief, stop!"at the top of their lungs; and at their backs every idle varlet aboutthe inn--grooms, stable-boys, and hangers-on--ran whooping, howling, andhallooing like wild huntsmen.
Nick's frightened heart was in his mouth, and his breath came quick andsharp. Tap-a-tap, tap-a-tap went his feet on the cobblestones as downthe long street he flew, running as he had never run before.
It seemed as if the whole town bellowed at his back; for windows creakedabove his head, and doors banged wildly after him; curs from everyalley-way came yelping at his heels; apprentices let go theshutter-bars, and joined in the chase; and near and nearer came the cryof "Stop, thief, stop!" and the kloppety-klop of hob-nailed shoes inwild pursuit.
The rabble filled the dark old street from wall to wall, as if a cloudof good-for-naughts had burst above the town; and far in front sped onesmall, curly-headed lad, running like a frightened fawn. He had lost hiscap, and his breath came short, half sobbing in his throat as the soundof footfalls gained upon his ear; but even yet he might have beaten themall and reached the open fields but for the dirt and garbage in thestreet. Three times he slipped upon a rancid bacon-rind and almost fell;and the third time, as he plunged across the oozing drain, a dog dashedright between his feet.
He staggered, nearly fell, threw out his hand against the house andsaved himself; but as he started on again he saw the town-watch, wakenedby the uproar, standing with their long staves at the end of the street,barring the way.
The door of a smithy stood open just ahead, with forge-fires glowing andthe hammer ringing on the anvil. Nick darted in, past the horses,hostlers, and blacksmith's boys, and caught at the leather apron of thesturdy smith himself.
"Hoo, man, what a dickens!" snorted he, dropping the red-hot shoe onwhich he was at work, and staring like a startled ox at the pantinglittle fugitive.
"Do na leave them take me!" panted Nick. "They ha' stolen me away fromStratford town and will na leave me go!"
At that Will Hostler bolted in, red-faced and scant of wind, "Thouyoung rascal," quoth he, "I have thee now! Come out o' that!" and hetried to take Nick by the collar.
"So-oftly, so-oftly!" rumbled the smith, tweaking up the glowing shoe inhis great pincers, and sweeping a sputtering half-circle in front of thecowering lad. "Droive slow through the cro-owd! What hath youngster heredid no-ow?"
"He hath stolen a fortune from his master at the Three Lions--and theshilling for him's mine!"
"Hath stealed a fortune? Whoy, huttlety-tut!" roared the burly smith,turning ponderously upon Nick, who was dodging around him like a boy attag around a tree. "Whoy, lad," said he, scratching his puzzled headwith his great, grimy fingers, "where hast putten it?"
All the rout and the riot now came plunging into the smithy, breathlesswith the chase. Master Carew himself, his ale-can still clutched in hishand, and bearing himself with a high air of dignity, followed afterthem, frowning.
"What?" said he, angrily, "have ye earthed the cub and cannot dig himout? Hast caught him there, fellow?"
"Ay, master, that I have!" shouted Will Hostler. "Shilling's mine, sir."
"Then fetch him out of this hole!" cried Carew, sniffing disdainfully atthe low, smoky door.
"But he will na be fetched," stammered the doughty Will, keeping a mostrespectful distance from the long black pincers and the sputtering shoewith which the farrier stolidly mowed the air round about Nick Attwoodand himself.
At that the crowd set up a shout.
Carew thrust fiercely into the press, the louts and loafers giving way."What, here! Nicholas Attwood," said he, harshly, "come hither."
"Do na leave him take me," begged Nick. "He is not my master; I am notbound out apprentice--they are stealing me away from my own home, and itwill break my mother's heart."
"Nobody breaks nobody's hearts in old Jo-ohn Smithses sho-op," drawledthe smith, in his deep voice; "nor steals nobody, nother. We behonest-dealing folk in Albans town, an' makes as good horse-shoes as beforged in all England"--and he went placidly on mowing the air with theglimmering shoe.
"Here, fellow, stand aside," commanded Master Carew, haughtily. "Standaside and let me pass!" As he spoke he clapped his hand upon his poniardwith a fierce snarl, showing his white teeth like a wolf-hound.
The men about him fell back with unanimous alacrity, making out each toput himself behind the other. But the huge smith only puffed out hissooty cheeks as if to blow a fly off the next bite of cheese. "So-oftly,so-oftly, muster," drawled he; "do na go to ruffling it here. This shopbe mine, and I be free-born Englishman. I'll stand aside for noswash-buckling rogue on my own ground. Come, now, what wilt thou o' thelad?--and speak thee fair, good muster, or thou'lt get a dab o' thered-hot shoe." As he spoke he gave the black tongs an extra whirl.