HOW MY MASTER AND I HAD QUITE AS MUCH EXCITEMENT IN ONE AFTERNOON AS WAS
GOOD FOR US.
Just as they were turning to go, a sudden shout and rush of people
arrested them. The crowd on the course had been immense, and of the
roughest and lowest description: sharpers, thieves, and roughs were
there by the hundred, attracted from the neighbouring villages by the
opportunity of plunder and riot which Gurley races always afforded. As
soon as the serious business of the racing was over, this low mob
naturally sought excitement of their own making, and increasing in
disorder and intemperance as the day wore on, had become beyond control
just about the time when Mr Belsham, junior, took it into his muddled
head to make a start in the direction of home. The shout which kept him
where he was, was occasioned by that spectacle dear to the eyes of all
blackguards, a fight. Round the two blood and dust-stained combatants,
the mob surged and yelled. Every moment it grew denser and wilder; and
every moment it swayed nearer and nearer to the spot where the
Randlebury boys stood in their waggonette; and before they could move or
get clear, they found themselves in the very centre of the mob. Shouts,
shrieks, and wild laughter rose on every side of them; some of the crowd
scrambled up onto their wheels to get a glimpse of the pugilists; some
abused and swore at them for getting in the way; some tried to invade
their waggonette, and struck at them when they resisted.
In the midst of all, Belsham's horse took fright. There was a wild
plunge, a shriek from the crowd in front, and next moment the five boys
were thrown down among the crowd, while the horse, with the shattered
and overturned vehicle behind him, forced for himself a ghastly lane
through the mob.
Of Gus and his three friends, Charlie, whom the shock roused to sudden
consciousness, could see nothing. He tried to rise, but the crowd
pressed too wildly to give him the chance. For some moments he lay
among a host of crowding, struggling feet, expecting every moment to be
stunned, if not killed. But by a wonderful providence he escaped the
peril. The crowd gave a sudden swing in a new direction, and he was
left unhurt, though stupefied and almost unable to stir.
Presently he was conscious of a man standing in front of him.
"Oh, help me!" gasped my poor master.
The man seized him roughly by the arm and raised him to his feet.
"That's worth a tip," he growled; "come, hand over."
Charlie put his hand in his pocket and drew out a shilling.
The man scowled.
"Do you suppose I'll take a dirty shilling? Come, young swell, empty
out them pockets. Look sharp, I've no time to waste on the like of
you."
Tremblingly Charlie obeyed, and gave the man all the little stock of
money he possessed.
But he was not yet to escape. From under his jacket the greedy eye of
the thief had caught a glimpse of a chain. With a rough hand he tore
open the coat. "What, a ticker? Here's luck; out with it, come."
"Oh," cried Charlie, "take anything but that! Take my chain and my
knife, but not my watch?"
Hardly and brutally laughed the man as he snatched me out of the poor
boy's hand, and administering a parting cuff on the head of his victim,
turned to walk off with me in the recesses of one of his filthy pockets.
Scarcely, however, had he turned, when three men appeared in front of
him, coming in the direction of Charlie. The boy saw them, and imagine
his joy when in one of the party he recognised his old acquaintance, the
cabman Jim! With a sudden bound and cry of delight he rushed towards
him, shouting and pointing to the robber. "Oh, Jim, he's taken my
watch; get my watch back, Jim."
Jim took in the state of affairs in an instant, and calling on his two
companions to follow him, rushed upon and secured the thief before the
latter was even aware of their intention. It was vain for one man to
resist three. He was forced to disgorge first me, then the knife, and
then the money. Charlie indeed pleaded that they should leave him the
money, or some of it, but this proposal Jim scouted, and in his zeal
relieved the robber of a good deal more than he had stolen from Charlie.
Then with kicks and blows they drove the wretch away as fast as his
legs could carry him.
This done, Jim the cabman had an opportunity of renewing his
acquaintance with my master.
"Well," said he, "who'd have thought of seeing _you_ here? And what a
nice mess you're in. You look as if--"
"Oh, don't," cried Charlie, holding him by the arm; "it's bad enough as
it is, without you thinking ill of me."
And then he told him as well as he could how he had been decoyed to
these vile races; how he had been kept there by main force; how he had
been made senseless by their rough treatment, and how, but for Jim's
timely help, he would now have been robbed and helpless.
Jim listened in astonishment, not unmingled with many an ejaculation of
indignation at the poor boy's persecutors.
"And where are they now?" he asked, when Charlie had done.
"I don't know. We were all thrown out, you know, among the crowd. I
only hope they've not been killed."
"Well, if I was you," said the downright cabman, "I wouldn't break my
heart over them. I know _I'd_ like to have a chance of a quiet talk
with the young swells; _I'd_ give them something to take home with them,
I would."
Charlie said nothing, but gratefully put himself under the protection of
his deliverer, who, making a considerable round to avoid the crush, led
him safely to Gurley.
"There's no trap to be got for love or money, so you'll just have to
walk if you want to get back to Randlebury to-night."
Anything to get away from that odious crowd. If the distance had been
twice as far, Charlie would have undertaken it.
It was long enough, however, before they got away from the crowd. The
road from Gurley to Sharle Bridge was alive for a mile and more with
vehicles, drunken men and women, beggars and pickpockets. On either
side of the road were jugglers, and thimble-riggers, and card-sharpers,
who each attracted their crowd of simpletons. Many were the fights and
riots that attended these eager assemblages. As they passed one booth,
the headquarters of a blustering card-sharper, a sudden disturbance
arose which threatened to block the entire road. The man had offered a
sovereign to any one of his audience who could tell which of three cards
he held uppermost in his hand. One voice called out a number. The man
shuffled his cards, and by some slip on his part the guess of the
speculator turned out correct. Instantly that youth demanded his
sovereign, which the man refused, vowing and calling others to witness
that another number had been guessed.
"I'll bring the police," cried the voice, and instantly there was a
movement in the group as of some one endeavouring to force his way out.
"Knock him over!" some one cried; "he's only one of them donkey
schoolboys. What business have they here at all?" And at the signal
two or three of the juggler's accomplices made a dash at the retreating
youth and seized him.
"Souse him in the river!" cried somebody else.
"Sit on him!" shouted a third.
In the midst of these contradictory advices the roughs lifted their
struggling victim from his feet, and proceeded to carry him in the
direction of the bridge.
In the momentary glimpse which Charlie got of the wretched object of
this persecution, he recognised, to his horror and astonishment, Tom
Drift, livid with terror, frantic with rage, and yelling with pain.
"Jim," cried Charlie, "that's Tom Drift! Oh! can't we help him? Will
you try, Jim! Poor Tom!"
"Is he one of them four as brought you here?" asked Jim, not offering to
move.
"Yes; but never mind that; they will drown him; see how furious they
are! Will you help him, Jim?"
"Not a bit of me," replied the stubborn Jim, who was well content to see
the tables turned on one who had so brutally ill-treated his young
companion.
"Then I must try myself;" and so saying, the boy of thirteen rushed in
among the crowd, and wildly tried to make his way to where his
schoolfellow was being dragged by his persecutors.
Of course Jim had nothing for it but to back him up, and in a moment he
was beside my young master.
"Let the boy be!" he shouted to those who carried Drift, in a voice so
loud that for a moment the rabble stood quiet to hear.