"Open your trap an' I'll serve ye the same!" snarled the fellow.
"Good!" answered Jessamy cheerily, and alighting from the cart he
walked slowly towards the speaker, viewing the big man over with
kindly eyes, though his square chin jutted somewhat.
"Friends and brothers," quoth he, throwing out his arms, "I'm a man o'
peace as cometh afore you wi' peace in his heart and the Word o' the
Lord upon his tongue--" Now at this, some laughed, some cursed
blasphemously, and one began a song so unspeakably vile that my ears
tingled, and hot with shame I stole a glance at Diana, who sat
watching Jessamy's good-tempered face, calmly serene and apparently
utterly unconscious.
"And I love ye, friends and brothers," continued Jessamy, "because you
be all tabernacles o' the Lord, 'spite o' your beastly ways, and
formed in His image, for all your ugly mugs. Why therefore will ye
desecrate the tabernacle and debase His image--"
The cheery, musical voice was drowned by shouts and obscene
objurgations, while the big fellow, seeing the Tinker had laid by his
pistol, clenched brawny fists, shot out brutal jaw and glared at
Jessamy in murderous fashion, whereupon the excited crowd, swollen now
considerably, hooted and clamoured, pushed and jostled all about us in
a very threatening manner, so that my hand instinctively clenched
itself on the saucepan again and I crept nearer to Diana.
"Set about 'im, Tom! Ah, break 'is nob, lad!" bellowed the swaying
crowd.
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