The Mayor stood for a moment confabbing at the door of a
grocery, and then shot into it. I saw him struggling out of his gown as he
disappeared, and thence inferred that the chief burgess was a grocer in
private life.
So much I saw before pulling Sultan round to pass under the archway
leading into the yard of the "Rising Sun." I dismounted and called for an
ostler. No man appearing, I was about to lead Sultan farther down the yard
towards the stables when there was a scurry of feet behind me as if the
whole ostler-tribe of the "Rising Sun" was hastening to my assistance. I
turned round rattily to find myself looking into the barrel of a pistol,
while three or four men pounced on me and pinned me against the wall.
"Damn ye, horse-thief, for the black of a bean I'd blow your brains out,"
said Colonel Waynflete. "Stick tight, lads; and you, good host, fetch
along Master Mayor and the constable, and have me the scoundrel laid by
the heels. If this were only my commandery on the Rhine! I'd strappado you
and then hang you within the next half-hour. My bonny Sultan! How are you,
my precious?"
When a raw youth leaves farming for knight-erranting he must expect sharp
turns and rough tumbles, but surely Fate and Fortune were overdoing it
now.
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