The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 30: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

R l¢ | : . THE WATCHWORDS OF OLD LONDON. “You will see; he is about to challenge me, and that before you, one of the highest soldiers in the country,” said the other, and then he added, as he looked seriously at the apprentice, “You take it haughtily, my young master.” “By Heaven, sir, I take it as it is fitting |" exclaimed the young apprentice, with a gesture of defiance. At this bravado, the duke and the stranger were unable to restrain their laughter, and Harold was getting exasperated, when St. Clare, who had not got off the horse without difficulty, approached, with hat in hand, the gentleman in gray, and said— “Sire, nothing can be ever done with that mare.” “The king |’ exclaimed the young apprentice, in confusion, and he bowed his head, and bent a knee upon the ground witha repentant air. “ By St. George, my young friend,” said the king, “I have seen the time when you were about briskly to remind us that all gentlemen are our equals, and that a knight o old might cross a lance with his king.” ¢ Ah, sire | pardoa— pardon!” ‘Come, raise yourself, gentle sir,’ and by a movement of that majestic grace, which Charles the First, the most gentlemanly and refined of kings, gave to hia most trifling actions, he lightly touched, with the tip of his finger, the cheek of Harold, who, still on his knee, kissed the royal and. ‘By your dress I should take you for an ap- prentice.” " } Harold rose to his feet. “T am, sire,” returned the youth. ‘To whom are you bound!” said ths king. “To Frank Leslie, the armovcer of the Strand.” The king remained in taought for some minutes, Then he said— } * You look a brave and honest lad. Is this Leslie a friend to you, as well as being your master ?” “ Hg is, your majesty; he is my friend and benefacter.’” The king smiled gloomily. “ Yoar benefactor ?” he repeated. ‘Then you would be loth to act against his wishes?” “J should, sire,” he said. ‘ But what service does your majesty require of me?” “Do you know Lerd Raymond?” said the king. ‘J do not. J have not heard the name, sire ; but I have no doubt I could find the place where he resides, if your majesty tells me.” The king whispered a few words to his com- panien, who answered him with a grave shake of the head. “Whatever the opinions of your master may be,” said the king, “do not tell him that you have met me. I am in London in disguise. What, ho! there,” he added, turning to the disconcerted rider; “go fetch my carriage, It seems that further waiting is useless. Fare- well, my young friend ; I will remember you.” The carriage moved up as he spoke, and, with baste, the king ascended to it. “What can this mean?” thought Harold, GOR ? ed re ee _ aang, “or = renee = whose mind was in no way affected by the king's amtability. “The king's companion suspected me, I sappose. This Lord Raymond ; the name seems familiar ; maybe Master Leslie may tell me,” But he found ft otherwise. The armourer listened carefully to his adven- ture, and shook his head gravely when he heard the name of Lord Raymond. _ “Can you tell me who this Lord Raymond is?” said Harold. <’ “No, my boy,” said the armonrer; “at ‘at know him well, and you have seen hi” present I cannot, dare not, tell yor | An instinctive feeling sb~ adtough Harold's rane. oon shot at-“** game mement through his brain off it; I feel it now,” he cried ; “ Lord nd is the enemy of my benefactor; the assassin from whose knife I saved him. Is tt not so, master ?" The armourer looked very grave, but he made no remark, His silence was enough. Harold saw that he was right. Tt was on that ssme night, as he was leaving the workshop, his master accosted him. “Harold,” he said, “you have before this proved yourself a brave lad. This night an im- orteit letter must be taken to St. David’s, near xs Margaret’s. If you like to take this commis- sion it may bring you into good repute and dis- tinction, Will you go?” “Yes, with pleasure, master,” said FLarold, smiling ; ‘‘ but it seems as if there is more plot- ting and letter carrying here than hard work.” The armourer looked grave, ‘S Be not too forward, boy,” he said; “these secrets are not for you. Let it suffice that the good of your country is concerned and the in- terests of those who have befriended you. Are you willing to go?’ ‘© Yeg, sir,” said Harold, boldly. “Then you and Quelf, when the letter is ready, must go round to the ‘ Three Bells Tavern > and see two or three of the apprentices, You may have need of company. Wait here and I will be with you in a few moments,” So saying, he turned away and passed into the house. eqn aa CHAPTER IX. THE CITY APPRENTICES. “orto, Master Harold,” said a squeaking voice near him just as the giant armourer de- parted, “hullo, Master Harold, we're going ont again, then, are we /” Harold, who was thinking of the strange events which were, as it were, closing in his life, and narrowing it into a slender circle, started round on hearing the voice, and saw Quelf standing by him with a horrible grin upon his face. ‘Yes, worse luck, you will have to go with me,” said Harold ; ‘ but fear not, I will not go without due precautions,” ». an 6 * GOVE SOO! <S) CO