Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his
attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the
swiftness of desperation. This individual apparently met with some
impediment to his further progress; for he had not proceeded many steps
when he turned suddenly about, and darted up the passage in which Wood
stood.
Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,--for he was completely out of
breath,--the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and,
regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that
personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to
divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's
shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the
approach of his pursuers.
The appearance of the new-comer was extremely prepossessing; and, after
his trepidation had a little subsided, Wood began to regard him with
some degree of interest. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was
scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of
feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such
as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society.
His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his
countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was
resolute and stern.
At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by
the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood
altered the position of the bundle. The stranger turned his head at the
sound.
"By Heaven!" cried he in a tone of surprise, "you have an infant there?"
"To be sure I have," replied Wood, angrily; for, finding that the
intentions of the stranger were pacific, so far as he was concerned, he
thought he might safely venture on a slight display of spirit. "It's
very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this
confounded clothes'-bag. But some people have no consideration."
"That child may be the means of saving me," muttered the stranger, as if
struck by a new idea: "I shall gain time by the expedient. Do you live
here?"
"Not exactly," answered the carpenter.
"No matter. The door is open, so it is needless to ask leave to enter.
Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded
at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be
lost. Give me that precious charge," he added, snatching the bundle from
Wood. "If I escape, I will reward you. Your name?"
"Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it.
And now, a fair exchange, Sir. Yours?"
The stranger hesitated. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen
flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring
houses.
"My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. "But, if you are
discovered, answer no questions, as you value your life. Wrap yourself
in my cloak, and keep it. Remember! not a word!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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