"A sailor!" quoth he, "nay, by my body, thou'rt a soldier now, my lad, and a brave one to boot. We want lads of thy build for the wars; so rest thee content to travel by land instead of by sea. Here's money on it," thrusting silver into my hand, "let's see how neatly thou can'st turn up a tankard to the Queen's health!" "No," cried I, letting the money drop, "I am no soldier. And as for money," said I, pulling out my lady's purse, "here is an angel for you, good man, if you but let me go." "Oh, ho," cried he, "'tis a lad with a purse, is it? So much the better for us. Here, comrades," cried he. But I waited for no more. The bells of Cheap were already chiming the hour. With a blow of my fist I felled him, and breaking through the rest of them before they comprehended what I was about, I took to my heels. Then ensued a hue and cry the like of which Thames Street had not often witnessed. The soldiers, encumbered as they were with their harness, could only shout and raise the town. Others, more fleet, pressed me hard; others, coming to meet the uproar, hustled me, and struck me at, and tripped me as I went by. But I had not wrestled and played football in Finsbury Fields for naught. At length the crowd became so great, all running one way, that not a man knew why he ran, or what it was all about. As for me, when I saw that, I mingled with the crowd, and shouted, "Stop thief!" with the loudest of them. Then, when no one thought of me, I slipped quickly down to the water's edge, and flung myself into the first wherry I found. But by this time the hour was long gone by. For we had been chasing half-an-hour up and down; up Watling Street, across Cheap, behind the New Exchange, up Cornhill, down Gracious Street, and along the new Fish Street towards the Bridge; so that when, more dead than alive, I struck out into the stream and shot the Bridge, not a sign was there of the _Misericorde_. I was tempted to give it up then, and let who would take me. And, indeed, there seemed a good chance of that. For the owner of my wherry, supposing me to be the thief I seemed, was already out after me, and in another few minutes the hue and cry by water would be as loud as that by land. So on I went on the rapid ebb for dear life. And casting my eyes upward, I noticed that the air was still and windless; so that wherever she was, the _Misericorde_ could be getting little help from her canvas. And if she were only drifting on the tide, why should not I with my oars make as good or better pace than she? Yet I confess I was sorely vexed to think that they had gone without me; and when I remembered further that I had the lady's purse with me, I could have thrown myself, in despair, over my boat's side. What would they think and say of me!