"Why, then--who--who are ye?" stammered Tom.
"I'm Jessamy Todd, preacher, man o' peace--and your friend, if you'll
ha' me, Tom."
"Jessamy--Jessamy Todd? You? O Lord, I'm bit! Jessamy Todd--why, then,
no wonder."
And now the crowd caught up the name, speeding it from lip to lip.
"Jessamy Todd! It be Jessamy Todd!"
"Can ye walk, friend Tom?"
"I think so."
"Then up wi' you and along o' me into the 'Ring o' Bells'; I'll soon
make ye comfortable, an' then you an' me will pray together, shall us,
friend?"
"As ye will!" mumbled Tom. So, having aided his late antagonist to
rise, Jessamy turned to nod and smile at us.
"Drive on, brothers," said he, "I must bide here awhile on the Lord's
business, so drive on. I'll look for ye at the fair."
My stiffened fingers loosed the saucepan handle, for now all about us
were faces that smiled and nodded cheerily, and as we jingled on our
way again, the fickle crowd, their animosity quite forgotten, saluted
us with ringing cheer.
CHAPTER XXV
TELLS OF MY ADVENTURES AT THE FAIR
A hoarse clamour upon the air, shouts, laughter, the bray of horns,
throbbing of drums, clashing of cymbals and tinkling of bells: a
pandemonium that deafened me, a blatant uproar that shocked and
distressed me as I stood, amid the hurly-burly of the fair--in it, not
of it--staring about me for some glimpse of Diana or the Tinker who
had vanished amid the surging crowd hours ago, it seemed, and whom I
had sought vainly ever since.
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