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Let him find it out," muttered Wodehouse in his beard; but the words were only half audible, and the vagabond's shabby soul was cowed in spite of himself.
When his admonitor said "Go," Wodehouse made a step towards the door, and for an instant felt the exhilaration of enfranchisement. But the next moment his eye sought Jack Wentworth's face, which was so superbly careless, so indifferent to him and his intentions, and the vagabond's soul succumbed with a canine fidelity to his master.
Meantime he was shaking the little vagabond's hand, chuckling and a-beam with hospitality. "Your Grace !" said Damiens, bewildered. "Well, go, in any event," said Ormskirk. "Oh, go anywhere, man! to the devil, for instance." His eyes, followed the retreating lackey. "As I suspect in the end you will," Ormskirk said, inconsequently. "Still, you are a very serviceable fellow, my good Damiens.
Bracciolini's own haphazard youth had taught him that a jongleur had no civil rights, was a creature to be beaten, robbed, or stabbed with impunity. Upon the other hand, if the vagabond's tale were true, one of two things would happen.
Having escaped a continuance of his parents' brutalities, and eluded their ill-conducted pursuit, the young gipsy, in the company of his only friend, soon forgot his miseries as his thoughts turned to a vagabond's rough sport in the stillness of the harvest night.
There was another man in the room, evidently a servant, engaged in kindling a fire. Slowly the vagabond's gaze focussed itself upon Mordaunt's face. He saw it clearly for the first time and gave a slight start of recognition. "I have seen you before," he muttered, frowning uncertainly. "Where? Where?" "Never mind now," returned the Englishman gently. "Drink this. You need it."
He was too kind-hearted, also, to blame the Count, as his wife did, for having been the promoter of the loan, for he readily admitted that he would have lent as much, had he made the vagabond's acquaintance under any other circumstances. But the Count, since Akulina had expressed herself with so much force and precision, could not look upon the affair in the same light.
Clare covered him up warm, thatching all with a piece of loose carpet, and he was asleep directly. The next day all terror of the water-but was gone from the little vagabond's mind. He was now, however, thoroughly afraid of Clare, and his conceit that, though Clare was the stronger, he was the cleverer, was put in abeyance. How things went for a time.
"I am much mistook if you have not," said Martin cheerfully. "Now Heaven forbid!" "The old vagabond's skull cracked like a walnut. Aha!" "Heaven and the saints forbid it!" "He rolled off his mule like a stone shot out of a cart. Said I to myself, 'There is one wiped out," and the iron old soldier grinned ruthlessly. Gerard fell on his knees and began to pray for his enemy's life.
The prime minister of the Crown in all his pomp of imperial orders has not so many ribbons as this poor vagabond's claim. Sometimes it is swathed in crimson tyings, sometimes in scarlet, now and again in magenta; and I am very happy to be able to say that pink and two very exquisite shades of blue known as birds-egg and cobalt have lately been introduced.
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