"He do be werry fresh, sir," warned Tom.
"So much the better!" said I. "Hold him until I give the word."
So saying, I swung to saddle, settled feet in stirrups and gripped the
reins short in gloved hand.
"An evil night, sir!" said Clegg. "And you won't take your pistols?"
"No! Let go, Tom!"
Back sprang the groom and, snorting joyfully, Wildfire sprang away.
CHAPTER V
STORM AND TEMPEST
A blusterous wind that fluttered the skirts of my long, caped coat,
that filled the night with stir and tumult and flaws of sudden rain; a
wind that whirled black masses of ragged cloud across a lowering
heaven lit by a pallid moon that peeped stealthily and vanished, to
peep again.
And glancing from desolate, wind-swept streets to flying cloud-wrack,
I judged there was worse to come and knew a strange, unnatural joy
therefore, as I bent my head to buffeting wind and reined the fiery
animal I bestrode to less furious pace.
We crossed the river at London Bridge, a dark horror of moving waters
swirling here and there in the ineffectual beam of lamp or lanthorn;
on past gloomy streets and narrow courts where dim forms jostled, and
ever and always the blusterous wind rioting 'twixt heaven and earth,
booming in chimneys, moaning in dark corners, rattling windows,
clapping-to crazy shutters and setting signboards a-swing on scolding
hinges.
On and on through this ever-growing turbulence, while Wildfire tossed
proud head, snorted defiance upon the elements, and bored eagerly upon
the bit.
Pages:
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375