Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
No sooner had she gone than I slipped the flute in my pocket and
prepared to take a hand in the defence. As I had no other weapons I
had to employ my hands. Had the conditions been equal I could have
wished no better. But they were little likely to prevail against
superior numbers, armed with staves. Indeed, from the first,
submission would have been the wiser course for us all, as the gypsies
were at such a disadvantage that they had no chance. Yet blows were
dealt with mighty goodwill on both sides; sometimes the upholders of
the law went down, but more often the breakers of it. Presently two
fellows with cudgels in their hands made to seize me by the collar,
whereon I dealt the most assiduous of the twain so shrewd a crack on
the point of the jawbone as laid him low. The other fellow came at me
furiously with his stave, and I had barely time to whisk my head aside
and so get it clear of the blow that was aimed at it. I was hastening
to follow up this delicate attention with a few of my own, when a third
adversary unseen came behind me, and gave me such a tap at the side of
the head as brought me to the ground bleeding and half insensible.
Before I could make any attempt to gather myself again, a pair of knees
were in the middle of my chest, and a strong hand half choked the life
out of my throat. I was in no condition to kick or struggle much; but
whatever the philosophy of my temper in the piping times of peace,
devil a bit did I exercise of it now. Bleeding and breathless as I
was, I resisted with what was in the circumstances an absurd tenacity;
and it was some little time, after a great display of energy on both
sides that two or three of my enemies ultimately secured me, bound my
hands and raised me to my feet. And I hope the reader will observe
that I again insist that it took two or three persons to conclude this
unfortunate business, as it did to inaugurate it. I know not what vain
glory it is in a man that makes him so punctilious in matters of this
sort.
By the time I had been overcome and raised on to my feet in fetters,
the affair was almost decided. There could be but one ending; and very
soon the unfortunate gypsies were all of them captive too, with cords
round their wrists, and most of them bloody of bearing. No time was
lost in marching us away to the nearest magistrate. There seemed about
a score of armed men to take the custody of us. In the haste with
which everything was carried out, in the uncertain moonlight, and in
the dull vague condition of mind that the shock of events, to name only
one cause, had induced, I had not the smallest opportunity of taking
farewell of Cynthia. Nor had she any means of approaching me, seeing
how sedulously we were guarded, and how promptly we were marched away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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