The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First — John Shaqi
The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the FirstFenn, George Manville
History
The Black Tor: A Tale of the Reign of James the First
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain -- History -- James I, 1603-1625 -- Juvenile fiction
"Hi! Nick! Nick, I say, hallo!" Ralph Darley ran as he shouted at a
couple of his father's men, who were descending the slope on the eastern
side of the castle, each shouldering a short sharp pick, of the kind in
common use for hewing stone.
At first, though they must have heard, they paid no attention whatever;
but at the third angry summons, they both stopped short, looked slowly
round, and seeing their young master running, they stood still, and
waited for him to come up, which he did, panting and angry.
"You, Nick Garth," he cried; "you must have heard me call."
"Yerse," said the man addressed, a strong-built fellow, with a perfectly
smooth face, and an unpleasant-looking pair of eyes, so arranged that
they did not work properly; in fact, he could only use one at a time.
If he brought one to bear upon an object, that eye dragged its fellow
round so that the pupil dived under the man's thick nose; and if he made
an effort to see with the eclipsed one, it served its fellow in the same
way.
"You must have heard too, Ram Jennings."
"Yoss, I heared," said the other man, a dark, rather villainous-looking
fellow, whose face could not be called troubled with yellow specks, but
streaked here and there with a little whitish red, the rest being one
enormous freckle, which covered brow, cheeks, and chin.
"Then why didn't you answer?"
"Both on us stopped," said the first man addressed.
"Ay, that's so," said the other.
"Why didn't you come back, then?"
"'Cause we see you running. Didn't we, mate?"
"Ay, that's so."
"It's your duty to come to me when your called," said Ralph hotly. "The
man to the master, not the master to the man."
"Allus do," said Nick, looking insolently at the lad first with one eye,
and then with the other.
"Don't be impertinent, sir. Now then, where are you two going?"
"Over yonder," said the first man surlily.
"Ay, over yonder," said the other.
"What for?"
"Fads."
"What?"
"Fads. Young missus wants some o' they softy stones cut to build up in
the yard, round a bit o' drain pipe, to make a puddle to keep fishes
in."
"Oh!" said the lad, cooling down. "Go and do it then; I'll wait till
the afternoon."
The men grinned, shouldered their picks, and went off, while the lad
took a few paces in another direction; but turned sharply, and called
the men again, with the same result--that is, they stood still and
waited for him to join them.
"They're a pair of thick-headed fools, that's what they are," muttered
the lad. "I could teach a dog to be more dutiful. Here, Nick--Ram--did
you see those soldiers who came the other day?"
"Nay, only one o' their cloak things as they left behind."
"Left a cloak behind?"
"Ay," said the second man. "I fun' it."
"What did you do with it?"
"Burnt it. Warn't good for nothing else."
"Do you know where they went?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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