On hearing
this news, numbers entered the gate pell-mell, carrying with them some
who would fain have acted with more discretion, by watching the issue
warily and out of harm's way. Of this class was our stout-fisted friend
Darby Grim, who, though of a well-composed valour when fairly tested,
was yet slow to move, and cared not to thrust his fingers uselessly into
a broil.
The first party that entered was met by Humphry.
"Pick-axes and spades!" cried he, flourishing a stout staff. "To the
dungeon!--come along, come along!" So far from accelerating their speed,
this address seemed at once to suspend all further progress. They gazed
at each other; none wist what to do, naturally not overburdened with
confidence in the discretion of their guide. Suddenly checking himself,
he stood as erect as the nature of his form would admit, before the
astonished auditors.
"Ye lazy caterpillars! ye cowardly scum of humanity! if ye follow me
not, I'll rouse the Welsh bull-dogs. Sir Osmund hath ta'en him to the
dungeon, I tell ye; and who is there that will not lend a hand to the
rescue of Sir William Bradshaigh?"
Grim was among the foremost of the invading army; on hearing this news,
a latent spark enkindled his courage most opportunely into a blaze.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153