"
"I go to tell master of thee," returned the tapster. "And he will set
thee to scour knives in a trice."
The tapster was as good as his word, and Walter Skinner, much against
his will, was soon at work. "Here be another degradation," he muttered
over his knife blades, "and I stand it not. I be not so mean-spirited
as to labor, nor to do the bidding of other men who should do mine." So
saying, he stole from the kitchen and the house into the streets, where
he became a vagabond, and so remained, along with thousands of others
like unto him.
Meanwhile Hugo and Humphrey and old Bartlemy were having troubles of
their own. The places in London suitable for them to stop at which old
Bartlemy knew proved to be known to him by report only. And, lacking
the present help of him whom Humphrey was pleased to call Bartlemy's
"friend to his counsel," the whole party soon knew not where to go; for
the old man had lost the energy with which he had escorted them to
London, and seemed to have sunk back into the semi-helpless mixture of
shrewdness and credulity which he appeared when Hugo and Humphrey had
first met him.
Pages:
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294