A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's InsurrectionHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
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A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's Insurrection
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Tyler's Insurrection, 1381 -- Juvenile fiction
With a shout Edgar threw himself upon a man who had raised a heavy
pole-axe, and cut the fellow down. Then, as the man fell, Edgar flung
himself on him, and hurled him against those behind, while Albert at
the same moment ran an opponent through the body. Then, turning, they
sprang up the stairs. On the landing above the girl was standing at an
open door. They ran in and closed it, and then piled articles of
furniture against it.
"There is no occasion for that," she said; "this way."
The room was heavily panelled, and one of the panels was standing open.
They followed her into this.
"Push it back," she said; "it is too heavy for me." The panel was
indeed of great weight, the wood being backed with brick, the whole ran
on rollers, but Edgar had no difficulty in closing it.
"Thank God, and you, gentlemen, that we are in safety. The keenest eye
could not see that the panel opens, and, being backed with brick, it
gives no hollow sound when struck. They will search in vain for it."
Taking a lamp from the ground, she led the way down a narrow flight of
stairs. By the depth to which they descended Edgar judged when they
reached the bottom that they must be below the level of the cellars.
She opened a door, and entered an apartment some twenty feet square. It
was lighted by four candles standing on a table. In one corner a woman
lay on a pallet; two women servants, sobbing with terror and
excitement, stood beside her, while a tall, elderly man rose to meet
them.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I don't know how to thank you. You must think it
cowardly that I did not descend to share your peril; but it was
necessary that I should go to the storey above that you reached to
bring down my wife, who, as you see, is grievously sick. Her two maids
were very nearly distraught with terror, and, if left to themselves,
would never have carried their mistress below. Having had some
experience of popular tumults in Bruges, my native town, I had this
hiding-place constructed when I first came here twenty years ago. Now,
to whom am I indebted for our safety?"
Edgar introduced his companion and himself.
"Then you are not, as would seem by your attire, merchants like myself?"
"No, sir. We but put on this attire over our own in order to be able to
traverse the streets without interruption. May I ask how it is that
your daughter was alone and unattended in the streets?"
"She was not unattended. She had with her my servant, a Flemish lad,
who has but recently come over. He speaks no English, and not knowing
the tongue, could not be sent out alone. My wife was taken worse this
morning, and the leech not having sent the medicine he promised, my
daughter, thinking that there could be no danger to a young girl, went
to get it, and as the servant was dressed in English fashion, and would
not be called upon to speak, I thought that she could pass unnoticed
did they fall in with any party of the rioters."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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