Prev | Current Page 147 | Next

Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Memoirs of His Adventures At Home and Abroad and Particularly in the Island of Corsica: Beginning with the Year 1756"

"But what the devil, then, is the meaning of it?"
He was answered on the moment. The official whom his Worship called
Nandy Daddo had made a rush into the crowd, charging it with his mace
as with a battering-ram, and was in the act of clutching the man who
had thrown the filth, when the phalanx of packet-men broke through
and bore him down. A moment later I saw his gold-laced hat fly
skimming over the heads of the throng, and his mace wrenched from him
and held aloft in the hands of a red-faced man, who flourished it
twice and rushed upon the Mayor, shouting at the same time with all
his lungs: "Townshends! This way, Townshends!" whereat the
packet-men cheered and pressed after him, driving the crowd of
Falmouth to right and left.
Clearly what mischief they meant was intended for the Mayor: and the
Mayor, for a short-sighted man, detected this very promptly. Also he
showed surprising agility in tumbling out of his saddle; which he had
scarcely done before the crupper resounded with a whack, of which one
of the borough maces bears an eloquent dent to this day.
The Mayor, catching his toe in the stirrup as he slipped off,
staggered and fell at our feet.


Pages:
135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159