WE left John Canty dragging the rightful prince into Offal Court, with a

Noisy and delighted mob at his heels. There was but one person in it who

Offered a pleading word for the captive, and he was not heeded; he was hardly

Even heard, so great was the turmoil. The prince continued to struggle for

Freedom, and to rage against the treatment he was suffering, until John Canty

Lost what little patience was left in him, and raised his oaken cudgel in a

Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франка www.franklang.ru

sudden fury over the prince's head. The single pleader for the lad sprang to

stop the man's arm, and the blow descended upon his own wrist. Canty

roared out:

'Thou'lt meddle, wilt thou? Then have thy reward.'

His cudgel crashed down upon the meddler's head; there was a groan, a dim

Form sank to the ground among the feet of the crowd, and the next moment it

Lay there in the dark alone. The mob pressed on, their enjoyment nothing

Disturbed by this episode.

Presently the prince found himself in John Canty's abode, with the door

Closed against the outsiders. By the vague light of a tallow candle which was

Thrust into a bottle, he made out the main features of the loathsome den, and

Also of the occupants of it. Two frowsy girls and a middle-aged woman

Cowered against the wall in one corner, with the aspect of animals habituated