The Young Apprentice; or, The Watch-Words of Old London — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE; OR, terrace—are even now driving back the troopers ? See you not safety there? See you not that by mingling in this crowd we can escape? Come.” “No, no,” said Harold; “choose you your satoty and your way toit. The way J choose is 7.” , With these words he took one glance more at the fiery barrier which separated him from Ettie, and then, with an inward prayer to Heaven, sprang through it, The old man gazed for a moment in astonish- ment at the place where he had disap ‘ He had heard no sound of any one alighting on the opposite side, nor had he heard any cry of distress, Either of these sounds might, however, have been drowned in the loud din of battle. He glanced for an instant behind him, There came nearer the struggling crowd, which promised a chance of safety. Then he turned again to the barrier of smoke and flames. ‘“‘ By Heavens |"’ he oried ; “I cannot let that mad, brave boy perish! He has infected me with his enthusiasm. I will follow him.” And commending his soul to Heaven, he sprang high through the flames, and alighted just where he fell upon, and was thrown prostrate over a senseless body lying on the passage oor, CHAPTER XVI. THH BOYS OF OLD ENGLAND. ILE, the beseigers of the ald house continued their work with vigour. Led an one side by Rupert Ohangeling, the river boy, and Max Bowden, the apprentice, and on the other by Leslie thc armourer and Simon Lawless, the rescued victim of the Royalist con- spiracy, the boys and the men fought like the Boys of England should fight in a good cause— boldly and unflinchingly. I must explain how they got thera, Simon Lawless, on leaving the box in which the quaint old vendor of fruit resided, proceeded at once to the margin of the river, entered the first light boat he saw, and rowed straight away to the hot ge of Leslie the armourer. He found the armpurer it was so late at night, He was wielding his huge hammer and stand- ing in the red glow of the forge, a giant in strength and height, too, his sine arms crimson in the light, like the Pabal Cain of old. No smile was on his features now; pa me tune was chaunted as the clanging iron leape on the anyj] beneath the strokes of his gigantic hammer, He was stern, unyielding, with fierce eyes and set lips, like a figure of vengeance ! He glanced up hurriedly as Simon Lawless entered. ; “Hal” he said, without moving a muscle of his face more than was neceasary to form the words ; “ what want you, Simon P” “I come to speak to you of your daughter,” said Simon. “OF Ettie ?” 66 Yes,”’ ‘Know you, then, where she is f”’ rd at work, though JT do.” The armourer flung down his hammer. ‘Take care,” he said, “don’t disappoint me, or I shall wreak my anger upon you,” “T donot make mistakes,” answered Lawless, sternly. “Did I make a mistake when, sur- rounded by my hungry enemies, I made them believe that my tongue had been torn out by the roots? No, I make no mistakes, Your daughter Ettie is in the house of Lord Raymond, near London Bridge, and Harold Fordyce also.” Leslie uttered a fierce oath. ‘Then, it is he who has aided in her abduc- tion ?” cried he, savagely. Simon Lawless raised his hand deprecatingly. “Softly,” he said, “softly. Harold, like a brave lad that he is, followed in the track of those who carried her off, and when preparing to go to her assistance, he was seized by the troopers, and confined also.” “Good,” returned the armourer, musingly. ‘YT am glad to hear it was not he who did me this great wrong. I was loth to believe it.” “ Yet you did.” ‘(Circumstances were against him. But tell - me, how do you pro to act? Will not the troops of the Parliament assist us?” “T can pet many brave hearts to act with me ; some troopers and others from among the city apprentices and the river boys.” “Whom mean you?” ‘The boys among whom Harold was brought up, They are sturdy, active fellows, and in acaling a wall] or climbing along perilous places, their serviceg wil] be invaluable.” ‘ And when, think you, will be the best time for the attack ?” ‘¢ To-morrow night.” ‘May they not remove Ettie to some other more seoluded spot before that time f”’ “TI doubt it,” said Simon, “if they have that intention, I have a good watcher in the person of Pilgrim Oorder, the fruit-vendor of London Bridge. Farewell now ;.I have more work to do this night. Keep silent, and expect me to be with you to-morrow as soon as the darkness comes on.” On leaving the armaurer’s house, he Jaunched out once more on the river. He proceeded along until the old huntifig-box was reached—the old, deserted place where we have seen Rupert Changeling and the other merry river boys proparing their grand supper for the reception of Harold Fordyce, Having moored his boat among the reeds and rushes, he proceeded along the dark grounds until he reached the old tower of the castle— for it was really'a castle—which had been un- occupied, as I have said, ever since the execution of Lord Cliveden, except by the wild, homeless boyg who had now made it their hahitation. Knocking gt the door, he had but to waita moment before a light broke on him from the slightly opened door. “ Who’s there?” asked a voice. “A friend to Harold Fordyoe, who is in trouble,” said Simon, ‘What is the wachword!” asked a second boy from within. oh was Rupert Changeling. “Thave no watchword,” Sia Simon ; * but a ~~. GOMTMEOOO eS oS »’ CO lin