Herbert Strang

“ Where is it?” he asked a lad in a ’prentice’s cap who was trotting over the cobblestones.
“London Bridge,” panted the lad, and ran on.
Martin began to run too. The crowd grew thicker; from every street and lane poured men and boys, and a few women, some only half dressed, all excited, all eager. From mouth to mouth ran the terrible word Fire! and as the throng swelled their pace quickened, and their cries, mingling with the clatter of their shoes, raised a din that strangely disturbed the Sabbath quiet of the bright morning. ”

“ Shouting, gesticulating, they got in one another’s way in their struggle to reach the door, where Gollop coolly awaited their onset. His broad form blocked up the narrow entrance; the foreigners could attack only one at a time; and as they came on, one by one, each was put out of action by a sudden thrust or cut or lunge of the cutlass wielded by a master hand.
Martin glowed with admiration as he watched the swift movements of the big man. ”

“ The wherry was almost opposite to the Deptford stairs when a cry broke from the passenger’s lips. Martin glanced round, and saw a boat approaching swiftly. It contained a single man, pulling hard against the tide.
Martin’s passenger stood up, and shouted angrily a few words in a foreign tongue, which Martin could not understand. The man ceased rowing, and turned his head, and Martin recognised him as the foreign seaman whom he had seen a little while before asleep in the drifting craft. Next moment he swung his boat round and rowed rapidly towards the entrance of the repairing yard. ”

“ The men hailed him; he pulled in to the foot of the stairs, took on the impatient passengers, and rowed away again, towards the city.
The dusk was gathering, and Martin was about to rise and go home when he heard footsteps on the other side of him, and a voice say, angrily,
“The boat is not here!”
“I can’t wait,” said another voice, which Martin recognised at once as Mr. Slocum’s. Instinctively he drew farther back into the shadow of the post. “It would not be safe. You must hire a waterman.”
“There isn’t one to be seen,” said the first speaker. “There never is when you want one.” ”

“ With beating hearts they heard the rumbling draw nearer; the heavy tramp of the man; his mutterings as he heaved his load from the truck and lowered it to the deck of the barge. They held their breath. Would the man follow it? No; he swung it almost over their heads, and it settled with a bump a few feet short of them.
The moment the man retreated, Martin dashed back to the aft rope, struggled with the knot until he managed to cast it off, hastened forward and cast off the rope there likewise. The barge swung free. Against its gunwale lay the long heavy sweeps with which it was propelled. ”

“ His whole attention was concentrated on the pursuers. His heart sank; they were gaining on him. How could it be otherwise? The Thames wherry of those days was a heavy lumbering craft, and a half-grown boy could not hope to outrow the two men who were urging their boat along with strong, sweeping strokes.
He heard encouraging cries from the third man who sat in the stern, and as the pursuing boat gained on him yard by yard, he saw with a strange thrill, in spite of the darkness, that this man was the mysterious bearded passenger whom he had rowed down the river an hour before. ”

“ The air that summer evening was hot, and its oppressiveness was enhanced by the pervasive smell of burning. Martin followed the toiling ’prentices into Aldersgate Street and turned after them into London Wall, expecting them to swing to the right at Bishopsgate, and so finish their long round to the Tower.
To his surprise, they took the eastward direction, and struck into a winding lane that would bring them, certainly, to the river, but at a point far away from their supposed destination. Martin was conscious of a growing curiosity, even of excitement. ”

“ And on shore the roar and crackle of the flames mingled with the cries and lamentations of homeless people.
At last, tired and hot and hungry, Martin pulled his empty boat down stream, fastened it to its post at the stairs which, being behind the fire, were deserted, and dragged himself wearily homeward. It was long past his dinner-time, but Susan Gollop had kept food waiting for him and for her husband, who had not yet returned.
“What’s come of the man?” she said, when Martin entered the room. “Stopping to see the fire they’re talking about, I suppose. And you’re as black as a sweep. ”

“ He realised in a few moments the impossibility of gaining the stairs before the wherry overtook him. To save the goods was beyond hoping for; it would be as much as he could do to save himself and Gundra from capture. They must abandon the barge and swim for the shore, now perhaps some fifty yards distant. Could they do so without being seen and followed? Martin had little doubt that the pursuers would strain every nerve to capture them, and so ensure that the sailing of the Santa Maria should not be interfered with. ”

“ At a gesture from Blackbeard the Frenchman sank into one of the chairs.
“Now you go,” the captain commanded, turning to Martin and Gollop. “I will finish the bargain with this gentleman.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Gollop quietly, “but afore I go it is in a manner of speaking——”
“What you mean?” said Blackbeard, truculently. “I say you go: there is no more for you: you have done; the business is with this gentleman.” ”

“ Martin returned to the basement, bade good-night to Susan, and went to bed. But he found it impossible to sleep. He lay tossing on his bed, worrying about the future, listening to the church clocks striking the hours.
It was some time after midnight when the stillness was broken by what seemed to be a low whistle from the patch of waste ground outside and a little above Martin’s window. The sound was not repeated, and Martin almost believed he was mistaken; but a few seconds later he was roused by another sound; a slight creaking, as if a window somewhere had been opened, then closed again. ”

“ Some thirty yards ahead the lane made another sharp twist. When Martin reached the bend he was just in time to see, dimly in the fading light, one of the ’prentices being shoved by a man through the gateway of a warehouse yard. The barrow, Mr. Slocum, and the other ’prentice were already out of sight.
Martin recognised the voice of the lad who was being roughly used as that of Butler, and he dashed on at his topmost speed, shouting as he ran. For a moment he had no other thought than to save the lad who had been his fellow-'prentice from the hands of his assailant. ”

“ The flames were spreading from the roof downwards. Smoke was pouring out of the windows. Susan watched grimly; Lucy, her eyes wide with awe, clung convulsively to Gundra, who seemed the least concerned of all.
Minute after minute passed. There was no sign of the Frenchman. The window of his room was closed, but smoke was trickling out at the edges of the casement.
“Oh! where is my dear Mounseer?” cried Lucy, tearfully.
“Drat the man!” said Susan. “What in the world he’s doing I don’t know. He must have a bee in his bonnet. Here now—Martin—come back! Come back, I say!” ”

“ He tied up the boat and strolled along by the edge of the repairing dock. Only one vessel lay there, a three-master brig without her mainmast, and it flashed into Martin’s memory that the waterman had told him of a Portugal ship that had come in for repairs.
“Is that a Portugal vessel?” he asked a man who was lounging near by.
“Ay, Portugal she is,” was the reply. “Dismasted by a Frenchman in the Channel. She’s not so foreign-looking as some Portugal ships I’ve seen, but her crew—why, bless your life, they’re as pretty a set of cut-throats as you’ve ever set eyes on.” ”

“ Purple with rage, Sebastian aimed a kick at Martin, who evaded it by a quick sidelong movement, at the same time swinging his sack and banging the man on the side of the head.
The sudden blow upset his balance. He toppled sideways, and with a resounding thump measured his huge bulk on the deck. The boy, meanwhile, had picked himself up and darted into the galley.
At this moment a man, somewhat better dressed than the others, came up through the open hatchway and uttered a few words in a commanding tone of voice. Martin guessed that he was demanding the meaning of the uproar. ”

“ But the first aspect of Susan Gollop made Gundra shrink back and clutch Martin by the sleeve. The good woman was beating a mat on the waste ground at the rear of the house, and the vigour of her strokes with the cane, and the fierce set of her mouth, seemed to promise little kindness. ”

“ It seemed that they had only left the barge a few seconds when they heard the wherry bump into its side, and the men scrambling on board, cursing as they searched for the fugitives. The search did not last long; one of the pursuers caught sight of the swimmers, who might perhaps have got away unseen but for the glare of the Fire.
“There they are!”
The shout caused Martin and Gundra to put all their remaining strength into their strokes. The pursuers rushed for their boat, and it was fortunate for the swimmers that it lay on the farther side of the barge. ”

“ I’m a freeborn Englishman, I am, and law or no law, I’ll not give up any mortal soul, black or white, to be treated that cruel. Cover him up, Sue. Split my timbers! I’ve never seen anything like it.” He began to stamp up and down the room, kicking over a stool, flourishing his soapy brush. “Brutes, that’s what they are. How dare they run into an English port! Constable as I am, English seaman I was, and sooner than send the poor little wretch back into a ship where they treat them so savage, I’d—I’d——”
He knocked over a chair. ”

“ Without wasting words Martin related how he had followed Mr. Slocum’s handcart, been trapped in the yard, and finally carried off to the disused warehouse; how he had escaped with Gundra, and got away on the barge.
“You’re a chip of the old block,” said Gollop delightedly; “and your poor father would be proud of you.”
“That Slocum’s a wretch,” said Susan. “I always said so. Now, what are you going to do, Gollop?”
“Do! What can I do?”
“There’s a man for you! Just as bad as the Lord Mayor. What can you do, indeed! ”

“ Martin murmured. George Hopton came and stood by him.
“Mr. Greatorex, to be sure,” answered Susan, “and a real kind gentleman. Brave too; ay, a man of bravery if ever there was one, and quick of his mind. He came riding up with this lad perched behind him, and the way he got off that horse—well, ’twas a wonderful spring for a man of his years. ‘Where’s Martin Leake?’ he sings out. ‘In the house,’ says I, ‘a-saving of the old gentleman on the first floor.’ ‘Isn’t there a man that could have done that?’ says he, scornful-like, looking round on the crowd. ”

“ To all appearance the Frenchman possessed nothing that was worth stealing; yet what other motive than robbery could anyone have had for breaking into his room? Mounseer knew Mr. Slocum. Mr. Slocum knew Mr. Seymour, and that gentleman, in spite of his politeness and his neighbourly intentions, was evidently suspected and detested by the Frenchman.
Martin began to feel very much worried, and had the extraordinary conviction that the clue to the whole mystery lay with Mr. Slocum.
“I dare say it’s very silly,” he thought; “it’s simply because I dislike the man. ”