Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

6 THE ARGOSY. unhappy Slythey in the duck-pond. “ Pray for me if ye ha’ any powers of heavenly persuasion left dry. For I am a sinner, damned at birth, predestined to hell, and lost to all grace. And to prove it—”’ And he capped this amazing outburst with a stream of utterly needless, senseless profanity that made Mistress Joyce blush red.and cover her ears, and~ Mistress Prynne cry out: “Oh, Jack! done!” I was a tonieed? that the maid should know him, as clearly she did. But Hob- goblin’s surprise was even greater when he turned and discovered the maid’s own iden- tity. He faced her, staring open-mouthed. Then he clamped his heels together, brought up his hand to his head, and sa- luted her as if she had been Old Noll him- self. ‘ For some reason the fickle mob cheered. At that, and as I seemed now able to stand alone, Mistress Joyce bowed to me and to Hobgoblin, laid a hand on the Puritan maid’s arm, and moved away. But there were still malcontents in the mob. Perhaps they resented being de- prived of the greater sensation of the af- fair—the ducking of a suspected witch. Perhaps they were emboldened once more by the nonappearance of the troopers they had supposed behind Hobgoblin and his bold front. Anyway, as the two women made to escape, the growl began again. Instantly Hobgoblin whipped out the sword he had sheathed when he rushed to seize Slythey. Over the heads of the two women he raised it. I, who had not ac- quitted myself with any too great honor as a hero, quickly saw and seized my chance of redeeming. Picking up my own sword from the ground where it had fallen from my hand, I sprang to the other side of Mistress Joyce and Ruth Prynne, and brought my blade to bear across the red-haired trooper’s, high over the heads of our fair ladies. And I was conscious in that moment of a brotherhood of arms established between Hobgoblin Jack and myself—conscious of it in the thrill of that contact of steel over the heads of these two women. Jack! I prithee, ha’ Under this cover of steel they walked, and we walked with them, Hobgoblin in particular eying the following crowd with a menacing scowl. But the crowd did not follow us any great distance. It thinned out gradually, and scattered, for the most part ashamed, for the most part friendly to us in the end. Master Sly- they, I suppose, emerged from the duck- pond after the enemy had departed with all the banners of victory. We escorted the ladies to the gates of a fine country manor set in spacious gardens a little to the north of Naseby village.. At the gates Mistress Joyce turned and, bow- ing graciously, said quietly: : “Gentlemen, I thank you.” — That was all, except that the Puritan maid favored Hobgoblin with a demure but approving smile. The red-haired orator, whose tongue was never still for long, of- fered Mistress Joyce Eveleigh a bit of advice. ‘Fair mistress,” said he, ‘if indeed ye be a supporter of the wrong side, as I judge ye be, then for your better welfare I would urge ye make haste to some refuge behind the king’s lines. He lies this night nigh Sibbertoft. ‘““And Mistress Prynne,”’ he added to the Puritan maid, ‘‘ as ye do seem to re- member me as the ungodly youth of EI- stow in Bedford, happen also ye ha’ mind o’ my trade. “Tf so be ye have any pots, pans or ket- tles in need o’ tinkering, bear it well in mind that Jack Bunyan’s: hand ha’ lost none o’ its old cunning.” CHAPTER III. ABOUT ANGELS AND STEWPANS. OUR camp was on the outskirts of Nase- by village. There Lord Fairfax had planted it on his march north from Oxford to check the victories of Charles, which in- cluded the taking of Leicester and the rais- ing of the blockade of Chester. On our way back from the gates of Eve- leigh Manor my odd friend, Hobgoblin Jack, seemed to have forgotten my exis- cComicoooks C©