“Nay—quickly, my sword! ’Tis pretty, Jack, to hear thee say ‘dear lad.’ A cheat to die like this—could have laugh’d for years yet. The dice were cogg’d—hast found it?” I groped beside him, found the hilt, and held it up. “So—’tis thine, Jack: and my mare, Molly, and the letter to take. Say to Delia—Hark! they are on the stairs. Say to—” With a shout the door was flung wide, and on the threshold stood the Watch, their lanterns held high and shining in Anthony’s white face, and on the black stain where his doublet was thrown open. In numbers they were six or eight, led by a small, wrynecked man that held a long staff, and wore a gilt chain over his furr’d collar. Behind, in the doorway, were huddled half a dozen women, peering: and Master Davenant at the back of all, his great face looming over their shoulders like a moon. “Now, speak up, Master Short!” “Aye, that I will—that I will: but my head is considering of affairs,” answered Master Short—he of the wryneck. “One, two, three—” He look’d round the room, and finding but one capable of resisting (for the potboy was by this time in a fit), clear’d his throat, and spoke up— “In the king’s name, I arrest you all—so help me God! Now what’s the matter?” “Murder,” said I, looking up from my work of staunching Anthony’s wound. “Then forbear, and don’t do it.” “Why, Master Short, they’ve been forbearin’ these ten minutes,” a woman’s voice put in. “Hush, and hear Master Short: he knows the law, an’ all the dubious maxims of the same.” “Aye, aye: he says forbear i’ the King’s name, which is to say, that other forbearing is neither law nor grace. Now then, Master Short!” Thus exhorted, the man of law continued— “I charge ye as honest men to disperse!” “Odds truth, Master Short, why you’ve just laid ’em under arrest!” “H’m, true: then let ’em stay so—in the king’s name—and have done with it.” Master Short, in fact, was growing testy: but now the women push’d by him, and, by screaming at the sight of blood, put him out of all patience. Dragging them back by the skirts, he told me he must take the depositions, and pull’d out pen and ink horn. “Sirs,” said I, laying poor Anthony’s head softly back, “you are too late: whilst ye were cackling my friend is dead.” “Then, young man, thou must come along.” “Come along?” “The charge is _homocidium_, or manslaying, with or without malice prepense—” “But—” I look’d round. The potboy was insensible, and my eyes fell on Master Davenant, who slowly shook his head. “I’ll say not a word,” said he, stolidly: “lost twenty pound, one time, by a lawsuit.” “Pack of fools!” I cried, driven beyond endurance. “The guilty ones have escap’d these ten minutes. Now stop me who dares!” And dashing my left fist on the nose of a watchman who would have seized me, I clear’d a space with Anthony’s sword, made a run for the casement, and dropp’d out upon the bowling-green.