Now it was upon my lips to indignantly deny so vile an accusation, but the words were arrested by a sudden, horrid thought, a dreadful suspicion, for in this moment I remembered Diana had passed this way very recently and, calling to mind the unfortunate predilection for appropriating the goods of others which she had termed "prigging," I knew a sudden shame on her account and therewith a sick fear lest she be caught with the damning evidence of guilt upon her. Thus, despite the fierce hands that grasped me and the bony knuckles that obtruded themselves painfully into the nape of my neck, I stood mute, profoundly unheedful of the little man's excited capering, whirling fists and threats of condign punishment. By reason of the little man's excited antics and high-pitched threats and wailings, we were very soon the centre of a pushing, inquisitive throng; faces peered at me, fists were shaken and voices reviled me, in especial one, that of an evil-faced man whose narrow eyes seemed vaguely familiar. Every moment the hostile demonstrations of the crowd grew more threatening until suddenly, and to my inexpressible comfort, above the angry clamour arose a voice peculiarly rich and musical. "Give way, friends, give way--yon lad's a friend o' mine--give way!" The ring about me was split apart by the forward thrust of a sinewy shoulder, and Jessamy appeared with Diana close beside him. "Why, what's the trouble, brother?" he enquired. "Thievin'--robbery, that's what!" cried the little man, capering higher than ever. "Stole me silver-framed mirror, 'e 'as, the young wagabone--a genuine hantique worth its weight in hemeralds--stole me mirror and don't deny it, neither--!" "Who says he stole it?" demanded Jessamy. "Did any o' ye see him commit the fact?" At this the small man blinked, and the two that held me stared upon each other a little at a loss. "Who says my friend stole your vallybles--come!" demanded Jessamy. "Why, we all says so!" cried the little man. "An' he can't deny it--and no more 'e don't, neither!" "However," said Jessamy, "my friend ain't stole your mirror, friend." "Then 'oo 'as?" demanded the little man, capering again. "Why--him, for sure!" said Diana suddenly, pointing at the narrow-eyed fellow who, blenching before her fierce look, turned to flee. "It's Hooky Sam!" she cried, and in that moment leapt upon him. Ensued a moment's scuffling and Diana sprang away, the stolen mirror in her hand. "Here's your trinket!" she cried, tossing it to its gaping owner. "Next time it's stole, don't go blaming the wrong one." Hereupon my captors loosed me and turned to seize the real culprit but, profiting by the momentary confusion, he ducked and squirmed, wriggled and dived under and between such arms and hands as made to stay him and, breaking free, took to his heels, and the crowd, losing all interest in us, betook itself to the chase, shouting and hallooing in joyous pursuit.