Passing the door at which I had first seen them, I noticed that
where the knocker should have been there was nothing but a few bent
nails and a splintered panel. After former experiences my suspicion
scarce needed this confirmation: without doubt these were our
Shrewsbury Mohocks, out for a night's frolic. I had never before
seen them at their diversions, my patrolling of the streets with
Captain Galsworthy having been a mere parade, as I have related,
and now I was in no mood to encounter them, having the trouble of
my father's illness on my mind. But I perceived that they were
engaged in wreaking their knavery upon the sign board of Nelly
Hind, and my blood waxed hot at the thought of the poor woman's
distress, and my fingers itched to strike a blow on her behalf.
Strong as I was, I knew 'twould be mere folly to attempt
single-handed to engage half a dozen, and I was thinking of running
quickly to some of the members of the Captain's disbanded force and
enlisting their help when the situation was changed by the arrival
of old Ben Ivimey, the feeblest of the ancient watchmen to whom the
peace of Shrewsbury was confided. He was past sixty and stone deaf,
and his bent old figure, with a lantern in one hand and a staff in
the other, came round the corner all unsuspecting what was in store
for him.
The Mohocks, intent upon their mischief, did not observe the coming
of the watchman. He was a little man, but must have been of some
mettle in his day, for, perceiving what is afoot, he toddles up in
his odd headlong gait, and laying his hand on the arm of one of the
roisterers, formally arrests him in the name of the mayor.
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