In Honours Cause | Page 7

"He spoke very well," said Frank.
"Yes; but he took me for a Whig," said the youth indignantly.
"But, I say, what was it all about?"
"Oh, you'll soon learn that," replied Andrew.
"Is there often fighting like this going on in the streets?"
"Every day somewhere."
"But why?" said Frank anxiously.
"Surely you know! Because the Whigs have brought in a king that the
people do not like. There, don't talk about it any more now. I want to sit
still and think."
Frank respected his companion's silence, and thankful at having
escaped from the heat and pressure of the crowd, he sat gazing at the
moving panorama on either side, enjoying the novelty of his position.
His musings upon what he saw were interrupted by his companion,
who repeated his former words suddenly in a low, thoughtful voice, but
one full of annoyance, as if the words were rankling in his memory.

"He took me for a Whig."
Then, catching sight of his companion's eyes watching him
wonderingly:
"What say?" he cried. "Did you speak?"
"No; you did."
"No, I said nothing."
Frank smiled.
"Yes, you said again that the man in the crowd took you for a Whig."
"Did I? Well, I was thinking aloud then."
"Where to, sir?" asked the waterman, as he sent the boat gliding along
past the gardens of the Temple, "London Bridge?"
"No; Blackfriars."
A few minutes later they landed at the stairs, and, apparently quite at
home in the place, Andrew led his companion in and out among the
gloomy-looking streets and lanes of the old Alsatian district, and out
into the continuation of what might very well be called High Street,
London.
"Here we are," he said, as he directed their steps toward one of the
narrow courts which ran north from the main thoroughfare; but upon
reaching the end, where a knot of excitable-looking men were talking
loudly upon some subject which evidently interested them deeply, one
of the loudest speakers suddenly ceased his harangue and directed the
attention of his companions to the two lads. The result was that all
faced round and stared at them offensively, bringing the colour into
Andrew's cheeks and making Frank feel uncomfortable.
"Let's go straight on," said the former; and drawing himself up, he
walked straight toward the group, which extended right across the

rough pavement and into the road, so that any one who wanted to pass
along would be compelled to make a circuit by stepping down first into
the dirty gutter.
"Keep close to me; don't give way," whispered Andrew; and he kept on
right in the face of the staring little crowd, till he was brought to a
standstill, not a man offering to budge.
"Will you allow us to pass?" said Andrew haughtily.
"Plenty o' room in the road," shouted the man who had been speaking.
"Aren't you going up the court?"
"I do not choose to go into the muddy road, sir, because you and your
party take upon yourselves to block up the public way," retorted
Andrew, giving the man so fierce a look that for a moment or two he
was somewhat abashed, and his companions, influenced by the stronger
will of one who was in the right, began to make way for the
well-dressed pair.
But the first man found his tongue directly.
"Here, clear the road!" he cried banteringly. "Make way, you dirty
blackguards, for my lords. Lie down, some of you, and let 'em walk
over you. Lost your way, my lords? Why didn't you come in your
carriages, with horse soldiers before and behind? But it's no use to-day;
the Lord Mayor's gone out to dinner with his wife."
A roar of coarse laughter followed this sally, which increased as
another man shouted in imitation of military commands:
"Heads up; draw skewers; right forward; ma-rr-rr-ch!"
"Scum!" said Andrew contemptuously, as they left the little crowd
behind.
"Is the city always like this?" said Frank, whose face now was as red as
his companion's.

"Yes, now," said Andrew bitterly. "That's a specimen of a Whig mob."
"Nonsense!" cried Frank, rather warmly; "don't be so prejudiced. How
can you tell that they are Whigs?"
"By the way in which they jumped at a chance to insult gentlemen.
Horse soldiers indeed! Draw swords! Oh! I should like to be at the head
of a troop, to give the order and chase the dirty ruffians out of the street,
and make my men thrash them with the flats of their blades till they
went down on their knees in the mud and howled for mercy."
"What a furious fire-eater you are, Drew," cried Frank, recovering his
equanimity. "We ought to have stepped out into the road."
"For a set of jeering ruffians like that!" cried Andrew. "No.