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After some time a fellow got from the open front of the neighboring cobbler's shop, where he sat with his lazy cronies, listening to the honest gossip of the follower of St. Crispin, and sauntered towards me. "How much for this?" I ask. "One franc, signor," says the proprietor, with a polite bow, holding up one finger.
Your wound, sir, renders it impossible for me to ask you to give yourself the fatigue of obliging me. I come, then, to propose that you return me those trinkets against my note of hand for the amount that was staked on them. I am well known in town, sir," he added hurriedly, "and you need have no anxiety." Crispin stopped him with a wave of the hand.
"On you, Basilio, I impose a fine of two reals for not ringing the bells in time," he said in a voice so hollow that his throat seemed to lack vocal chords. "You, Crispin, must stay tonight, until what you stole reappears." Crispin looked at his brother as if pleading for protection. "But we already have permission mother expects us at eight o'clock," objected Basilio timidly.
"Pluck that feather from your hat," said Crispin. Hogan obeyed him with a sigh. "Truly it is written in Scripture that man in his time plays many parts. Who would have thought to see Harry Hogan playing the Puritan?" "Unless you improve your acquaintance with Scripture you are not like to play it long," laughed Crispin, as he surveyed him. "There, man, you'll do well enough.
By that most glib and specious explanation Cynthia was convinced. True, she added a question touching the amazing condition of the grooms, in reply to which Joseph afforded her a part of the truth. "Sir Crispin sent them some wine, and they drank to his departure so heartily that they are not rightly sober yet." Satisfied with this explanation Cynthia repaired to her father.
His doublet was torn and his shoulder bleeding, whilst his empty scabbard hung like a lambent tail behind him. "We have brought him, captain," one of the men announced. "Aye, you crop-eared, psalm-whining cuckolds, you've brought me, d n you," growled Sir Crispin, whose eyes rolled fiercely.
Cynthia was gay, and so indeed was Crispin, yet she noted in him that coolness which she accounted restraint, and gradually her spirits sank again before it. To Crispin's chagrin there were no horses to be had. Someone in great haste had ridden through before them, and taken what relays the hostelry could give, leaving four jaded beasts in the stable.
In the hall again they kept him waiting for some moments, until at length an officer came up, and bidding him follow, led the way to the guardroom. Here they stripped him of his back-and-breast, and when that was done the officer again led the way, and Crispin followed between two troopers.
As in the distance, I heard one of those butchers cry, "Haste, man; slit me that squalling bastard's throat!" And then I must have swooned." Kenneth shuddered. "My God, how horrible!" he cried. "But you were avenged, Sir Crispin," he added eagerly; "you were avenged?"
Kenneth, who was uppermost, clung purposefully to the parson's throat. The faces of both were alike distorted, but whilst the lad's breath came in gasping hisses, the other's came not at all. Going over to the bed, Crispin drew the unconscious trooper's tuck-sword.
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