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- Стр. 104/153
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"
Now
speed
ye
after
me
with
the
rest
,
and
cry
'
Stop
thief
!
'
but
mind
ye
lead
them
astray
!
"
The
next
moment
Hugo
turned
a
corner
and
darted
down
a
crooked
alley
--
and
in
another
moment
or
two
he
lounged
into
view
again
,
looking
innocent
and
indifferent
,
and
took
up
a
position
behind
a
post
to
watch
results
.
The
insulted
King
threw
the
bundle
on
the
ground
;
and
the
blanket
fell
away
from
it
just
as
the
woman
arrived
,
with
an
augmenting
crowd
at
her
heels
;
she
seized
the
King
's
wrist
with
one
hand
,
snatched
up
her
bundle
with
the
other
,
and
began
to
pour
out
a
tirade
of
abuse
upon
the
boy
while
he
struggled
,
without
success
,
to
free
himself
from
her
grip
.
Hugo
had
seen
enough
--
his
enemy
was
captured
and
the
law
would
get
him
,
now
--
so
he
slipped
away
,
jubilant
and
chuckling
,
and
wended
campwards
,
framing
a
judicious
version
of
the
matter
to
give
to
the
Ruffler
's
crew
as
he
strode
along
.
The
King
continued
to
struggle
in
the
woman
's
strong
grasp
,
and
now
and
then
cried
out
in
vexation
--
"
Unhand
me
,
thou
foolish
creature
;
it
was
not
I
that
bereaved
thee
of
thy
paltry
goods
.
"
The
crowd
closed
around
,
threatening
the
King
and
calling
him
names
;
a
brawny
blacksmith
in
leather
apron
,
and
sleeves
rolled
to
his
elbows
,
made
a
reach
for
him
,
saying
he
would
trounce
him
well
,
for
a
lesson
;
but
just
then
a
long
sword
flashed
in
the
air
and
fell
with
convincing
force
upon
the
man
's
arm
,
flat
side
down
,
the
fantastic
owner
of
it
remarking
pleasantly
,
at
the
same
time
--
"
Marry
,
good
souls
,
let
us
proceed
gently
,
not
with
ill
blood
and
uncharitable
words
.
This
is
matter
for
the
law
's
consideration
,
not
private
and
unofficial
handling
.
Loose
thy
hold
from
the
boy
,
goodwife
.
"
The
blacksmith
averaged
the
stalwart
soldier
with
a
glance
,
then
went
muttering
away
,
rubbing
his
arm
;
the
woman
released
the
boy
's
wrist
reluctantly
;
the
crowd
eyed
the
stranger
unlovingly
,
but
prudently
closed
their
mouths
.
The
King
sprang
to
his
deliverer
's
side
,
with
flushed
cheeks
and
sparkling
eyes
,
exclaiming
--
"
Thou
hast
lagged
sorely
,
but
thou
comest
in
good
season
,
now
,
Sir
Miles
;
carve
me
this
rabble
to
rags
!
"
