ing that he would lose
dignity by argument, and having done his duty by a protest, was wisely
content with that. They opened wider the lane for him to pass through,
and he made his way, erect and somewhat defiant, to Mr. Pryse's, the
coachmaker opposite, holding me by the hand. The second storey of
Pryse's shop had a little balcony standing out in front, and here we
established ourselves, that we might watch what was going forward.

The crowd below grew strangely silent as the bark came nearer and nearer,
until Mr. Hood showed himself on the poop, when there rose a storm of
hisses, mingled with shouts of derision. "How goes it at St. James, Mr.
Hood?" and "Have you tasted his Majesty's barley?" And some asked him
if he was come as their member of Parliament. Mr. Hood dropped a bow,
though what he said was drowned. The bark came in prettily enough, men
in the crowd even catching her lines and making them fast to the piles.
A gang-plank was thrown over. "Come out, Mr. Hood," they cried; "we are
here to do you honour, and to welcome you home again." There were
leather breeches with staves a-plenty around that plank, and faces that
meant no trifling. "McNeir, the rogue," exclaimed Mr. Carvel, "and that
hulk of a tanner, Brown. And I would know those smith's shoulders in a
thousand." "Right, sir," says Pryse, "and 'twill serve them proper.
when the King's troops come among them for quartering." Pryse being the
gentry's patron, shaped his politics according to the company he was in:
he could ill be expected to seize one of his own ash spokes and join the
resistance. Just then I caught a glimpse of Captain Clapsaddle on the
skirts of the crowd, and with him Mr. Swain and some of the dissenting
gentry. And my boyish wrath burst forth against that man smirking and
smiling on the decks of the bark, so that I shouted shrilly: "Mr. Hood
will be cudgelled and tarred as he deserves," and shook my little fist at
him, so that many under us laughed and cheered me. Mr. Carvel pushed me
back into the window and out of their sight.

The crew of the bark had assembled on the quarterdeck, stout English tars
every man of them, armed with pikes and belaying-pins; and at a word from
the mate they rushed in a body over the plank. Some were thrust off into
the water, but so fierce was their onset that others gained the wharf,
laying sharply about them in all directions, but getting full as many
knocks as they gave. For a space there was a very be