" quoth Tom Webster, eying the bandy-legged man with a
curious snap in his honest eyes. "So the rascal hath stolen other things
than thee? I thought that yellow bow of his was tied tremendous high!
Why, mates, the dog is a branded rogue--that ribbon is tied through the
hole in his ear!"

Gregory Goole made a dash through the throng where the press was least.

Thump! went Tommy Webster's club, and a little puff of dust went up from
Gregory's purple cloak. But he was off so sharply, and dodged with such
amazing skill, that most of the blows aimed at his head hummed through
the empty air, or thwacked some stout apprentice in the ribs as they all
went whooping after him. He was out of the press and away like a deer
down a covert lane between two shops ere one could say, "Jack, Robin's
son," and left the stout apprentices at every flying leap. So presently
they all gave over the chase, and came back with the bag he had dropped
as he ran; and were so well pleased with themselves for what they had
done that they gave three cheers for all the Cloth-workers and Saddlers
in London, and then three more for Cicely and Nick. They would no doubt
have gone right on and given three for the bag likewise, being strongly
in the humor of it; but "Hi, Tom Webster!" shouted one who could hardly
speak for cherries and cheese and puffing, "what's gone with the queen
we're to have so fast, and the toll that we're to take?"

Tom Webster pulled at his yellow beard, for he saw that Cicely was no
common child, and of gentler birth than they. "I do not think she'll
bide the toll," said he, in half apology.

"What! is there anything to pay?" she asked with a rueful quaver in her
voice. "Oh, Nick, there is to pay!"

"We have no money, sirs," said Nick; "I be very sorry."

"If my father were here," said Cicely, "he would give thee a handful of
silver; but I have not a penny to my name." She looked up into Tom
Webster's face. "But, sir," said she, and laid her hand upon his arm,
"if ye care, I will kiss thee upon the cheek."

"Why, marry come up! My faith!" quoth he, and suddenly blushed--to his
own surprise the most of all--"why, what? Who'd want a sweeter penny
for his pains?" But "Here--nay, nay!" the others cried; "ye've left us
out. Fair play, fair play!"

All Cicely could see was a forest of legs that filled the lane from wall
to wall, and six great fellows towering over her. "Why, sirs," cried
she, confusedly, while her face grew rosy red