Friends, though divided: A Tale of the Civil WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Friends, though divided: A Tale of the Civil War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Juvenile fiction
This only led to louder and more angry shouts on the part of the others,
and in all parts of the room men rose to their feet, gesticulating and
shouting. The girl, who evidently did not understand a word that was
said, stood looking with affright at the tumult which had so suddenly
risen. In a minute swords were drawn. The foreign sailors, in ignorance
of the cause of dispute, drew their knives, and stood by the side of
those from the English ships, while the foreign soldiers seemed ready
to make common cause with the English who had commenced the disturbance.
Two or three of the latter leaped upon the platform to insist upon their
wishes being carried out. The girl, with a little scream, retreated into
a corner. Harry, indignant at the conduct to his countrymen, had drawn
his sword, and made his way quietly toward the end of the hall, and he
now sprang upon the platform.
"Stand back," he shouted angrily. "I'll spit the first man who advances
a step."
"And who are you, sir, who ventures to thrust yourself into a quarrel,
and to interfere with English gentlemen?"
"English gentlemen," Harry said bitterly. "God help England if you are
specimens of her gentlemen."
"S'death!" exclaimed one. "Run the scoundrel through, Ralph."
In a moment Harry slashed open the cheek of one, and ran the other
through the arm. By this time the fray had become general in the hall.
Benches were broken up, swords and knives were used freely. Just as the
matter began to grow serious there was a cry of "The watch!" and a
strong armed guard entered the hall.
There was an instant cessation of hostilities, and then both parties
uniting, rushed upon the watch, and by sheer weight bore them back out
of the place. Harry looked round, and saw that the girl had fled by a
door at the back of the platform. Seeing that a fight was going on round
the door, and desiring to escape from the broil, he went out by the door
she had taken, followed a passage for some distance, went down a
dimly-lighted stair, and issued through a door into the air. He found
himself in a foul and narrow lane. It was entirely unlighted, and Harry
made his way with difficulty along, stumbling into holes in the
pavement, and over heaps of rubbish of all kinds.
"I have got into a nice quarter of the town," he muttered to himself.
"I have heard there are places in Hamburg, the resort of thieves and
scoundrels of the worst kind, and where even the watch dare not
penetrate, Methinks that this must be one them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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