As he went uncertainly up one of these narrow lanes and down another,
leading north or south out of Cheapside, as the case might be, the
rabble began to gather about him and to bait him with jeers of various
sorts.
"Why, how now!" he exclaimed, when he had once more come into
Cheapside. And he put on his fiercest air, which sat strangely enough
on one clad as a scullion. "Do ye gibe and jeer at me who am servant to
the king? What know ye of young runaway lords and Saxon serving-men?
And the perils of a long way, and the keeper of the Shorn Lamb? I could
open your eyes for ye, if I thought it worth my while. But ye be all
base-born knaves--"
The last words were but out of his mouth when a strong hand jerked him
to the ground. And, not seeing what he did, as he struck fiercely out,
his clenched fist landed on the chest of the warden who was passing,
and Walter Skinner was promptly seized and about to be haled off to
punishment.
Cheapside was the principal market-place of London. It was broad, and
bordered on each side by booths or sheds for the sale of merchandise. A
sudden disturbance attracted the attention of the bailiff who held
Walter Skinner.
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