Collecting the Dagger Noon 28/12- Xmas 1677

[Charles Whitehurst]

A day had passed and it was time to collect the dagger from the weaponsmith. Names of prior dagger recipients danced in Langdon's mind, but none were recognizable. For now, the plan was to collect the restored dagger and then take it to Susan Herbert for her examination. There was little desire to be chatty with the old smith, unless he had further clues to offer.

 

Striding into the shop, his red uniform likely the most colorful thing in the viinity, Charles approached the counter, hoping to find the smith ready.

[George Hardwick III]

"Major Langdon, how have your been?" Said the lean strip of a man who'd been stood quietly at shop counter, yes with a little surprise in his voice upon recognition of the Lifeguard just arrived. Although, George happened to know quite a few men of the military profession around London (this sort of things happens when one spends a period in incarceration.)

 

George himself was looking a might better than when they had last seen each other. Charles had been one of the few who'd dared to visit the Earl. (If ever quizzed of the whys or wherefores, the Earl was determined to brush that all off with a murmur, perhaps something of suffering grief etc etc etc. It was all yesterdays news, fit for the mornings fires)

 

"Having your ceremonial sword polished for the new years celebrations perhaps?" George turned back to lean on the counter. "I swear, if he was not so good at his job I'd go elsewhere." the old tradesmen must be out the back there somewhere, who knew how long George had been waiting.

[Aria]

Percival Smith, the old metalsmith, was in the back finishing the cleaning of the dagger. When he heard voices out front, he called: “I'll be with you in a few moments, my lords!”

 

The bell above the door tinkled and a young woman, wrapped in expensive furs, walked in. She glanced around at the weapons on the wall, looking a bit lost. Glancing at the two gentlemen at the counter, she sighed and meandered over to one of the display cases.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Rather that find the master at the counter, Charles was surprised to find the Earl of Chichester waiting at the counter. The relationship between earls was an awkward one. At times they were hostile and at times they were civil, bordering on friendly.

 

"Good day my lord," Langdon greeted in a friendly enough voice. It looked as if George was there on business as well. Not only would there be a wait, but there was a risk that he would see the polished dagger and inquire about it. That meant he would need to manufacture a lie about it. I'll say it is a gift. That seemed sensible enough.

 

"A dagger being polished instead," he replied. His manservant polished his saber. "What brings you here today?" he inquired, content to banter while they awaited the master.

 

It was then that a lady walked in, wrapped in furs. Such a women seemed out of place in a weapons shop. Charles, ever the one with an eye for ladies, spared a brief glance to George as if to signal that they should render assistance. The lady looked lost after all. He supposed he would be likewise if he ventured into a seamstress shop. "Miss, is there some way that we can be of assistance?" he offered. It was more polite to include George in the offer so the older an would not think that Charles had any designs on the woman.

[George Hardwick III]

"Dagger eh? Sounds like this New Years celebrations are to be a bit different from the norm." George replied in a cheerful fashion.

 

Both men turning then as the shop bell jangled again, and in stepped a woman looking outside of her depth. Both men felt themselves compelled to assist. A look was exchanged, and Charles spoke up first.

 

"A fine fur, might I add." furs were typically gifts from a significant other, "If you are seeking a fine sword for your sweetheart, you have come to the right place."

[Aria]

The young lady looked up, a bit startled, when the two gentlemen approached her. She looked to be about eighteen years old and was quite pretty, with shiny chocolate brown curls and big brown eyes that traveled from one handsome gentleman to the other. She smiled shyly when Charles asked if they could be of assistance and a crimson blush blossomed across her cheeks as George complimented her fur.

 

“Thank you, my lord. I picked it out myself. And yes, I could use some assistance.” She was acutely aware of how out-of place she looked. “I am looking for a Christmas gift for my lord father. He collects rare weapons and I have no idea what he would like.

 

“Oh, where are my manners? I am Lady Tamsin Faraday. I just arrived at court yesterday.”

[Charles Whitehurst]

The name did not register with Charles as one he knew, but he would think more about the name Faraday. "A pleasure my lady. I am Charles Whitehurst, Earl of Langdon and this is George Hardwick, Earl of Chichester. We would be happy to be of assistance." Since he was a military man by training, weapons were second nature to him, meaning that he felt he should take the initiative in the matter. The fact that she was pretty only encouraged him further.

 

"What sort of rare weapon did you have in mind? Do you mean one of a foreign country or perhaps some sort of ancient weapon?"

[George Hardwick III]

"My mistake, Lady Faraday, forgive me." Geroge uttered sweeping a bow and with a brush of lips past her hand if offered upon these the introductions.

 

Her inquiry summoned towards Lord Langdon's field of expertise (although Chichester had a little more to do with such things than he let on to anybody), so he adopted an observatory stance as Charles quizzed for further details.

 

"Mmm... perhaps one of those finger traps" he lodged a suggestion. "it's ever entertaining to have one laying about the house somewhere. Just what style of evil doer they were designed to conquer, I cant imagine. Idle fingers perhaps? But they are a novel item to add to any collection."

[Aria]

Tamsin's blush deepened when she learned she was in the presence of two handsome Earls, and she committed their names to memory. “It is a pleasure to meet you both, my lords.” She curtsied demurely and then held up her hand to be kissed, a bit hesitantly. The pretty brunette was not accustomed to court life yet, but she knew that ladies usually expected gentlemen to kiss their hands upon greeting them.

 

Lord Langdon asked her what kind of weapon she was looking for, and she smiled sheepishly. “I'm not sure. I believe he has both foreign and historical weapons. Swords, daggers, axes, bows, spears, and no telling what else. There's an entire room in our manor devoted to his collection. He keeps it locked and I've only seen it a few times.”

 

Lord Chichester suggested something called a finger trap. “Is that a weapon?” she asked curiously. “I have never heard of such a thing before.”

[Charles Whitehurst]

As she offered her hand to be kissed, Charles was happy to oblige. He gave her a welcoming smile and stepped aside so that George could do likewise.

 

It sounded as though her father had a grand collection of weapons, making her gift a more challenging one. "It sounds as though you might need something exotic or ancient to have a hope that it is not already in his collection." He recalled the replica dagger that the weaponsmith had shown him, but there was little desire to have her interested in such a weapon when he was picking up one of his own. "It is quite possible that the smith here has some unique weapon in his shop. He might have something in the back that might be available. He should be back shortly." It was possible that the smith was overhearing them from his workbench. The Earl turned and looked that direction, as if the older man might come forth.

[George Hardwick III]

Completing his protocols, elegant bow and brush of lips over gloved nuckles, George returned to his full height and benignly smiled as Charles came to agree with his angle of suggestion (which had only been his own agreement of Charles thought earlier).

 

"We are of a consensus then Lord Langdon." George asserted, "That some novelty or weapon-exotica shall best satisfy Lady Faraday's needs."

 

He here turned to regard the blank faced pretty, "A fingertrap is more of a desk top game, and if your esteemed fatehr has a collection of such substance as you speak, then I have little doubt that he already possesses such an item. They were all the rave when I was just a boy." he turned back to Charles with eyebrow raised to add, "No doubt you've been caught by it too, putting one's fingers where they ought not is something of a vice of our sex."

 

George had no doubt that the innuendo of his jest would pass right over the young ladies head, yet might give rise to a muffled laugh from his sort-of-kind-of friend.

[Aria]

Both gentlemen politely kissed her hand, and while Tamsin was a bit embarrassed at the attention, she finally felt that she was a part of the English court, rather than an outsider looking in. Her mother had to beg her father to allow her to leave the estate on which she and her siblings had been raised, using the argument that she would find a more advantageous marriage at court. Her father had not been able to argue with that and had finally let her go. She wasn't looking to wed soon. There was so much to do in London and she thought she would need at least two years to see it all. Then, maybe she would be ready to settle down.

 

The Earls agreed that she needed to purchase an ancient or exotic weapon for her father and Lord Langdon suggested that the weaponsmith might help her find a suitable gift. Tamsin wondered where he was. There were three customers in his store. Was he not afraid they might steal something?

 

She laughed when Lord Chichester explained what a finger trap was, barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes. Proper young ladies, her governess had told her, never rolled their eyes. “A cousin tried to trick me with one of those things when I was a child, but I surprised him by pushing my fingers inward and releasing them. From then on, him thought I was clever, but I wouldn't have known what to do if I hadn't seen him playing with one the night before.”

 

As she was speaking, Percival emerged from the back of the shop with the dagger. He immediately recognized Charles and was pleased to see that he also had two more potential customers. Or perhaps the other two were either friends of the young solider or of the lady he had claimed to work for. “I just finished your dagger, my lord,” he said, spreading a black cloth upon the counter and setting the weapon upon it.

 

"Oh!" Tamisin exclaimed. "You had a custom dagger made?"

[Charles Whitehurst]

What had been intended to be a secretive transaction had now transformed itself into a more public showing. Unfazed, Charles intended to proceed with the notion that the dagger was to be a gift. That would, hopefully, deter further queries.

 

Though he had planned to defer to both George, because he had been there first, or the lady, because gentlemen always deferred to a lady, Charles was left with little recourse other than moving to the counter to examine the dagger.

 

"I did not have it made," he replied to Tamsin. "I merely left it here for cleaning and polishing." He need not yet explain himself further. Perhaps Chichester and the lady would not ask further of it. While examining the dagger with undisguised interest, he tried to deflect attention from himself. "Thank you sir." He wanted to make sure it was the same dagger that he had left . He reached for his purse to offer up some coins. The smith had offered to clean it for free if Charles would share the tale of its origins, but the young earl had no plan to do so.

 

"I believe the lady has need of your services, ad then Lord Chichester too," he explained to the proprietor before turning to the other two. "Apologies for having my business come before your needs. I shall pay and be on my way." Might he be able to slip away without further ado?

[George Hardwick III]

"Then savy with weapons is proven to run though your blood," George replied as she spoke of easily conquering the fingertrap. He would not admit that his own experiance with one had not been the same -- while Charles avoided a reply either this way or that upon the matter.

 

Inwardly George shrugged it off, it did not matter really that the Major did not want to share in his mens-joke.

 

And then the metalsmith exited his workroom. George gave the man a nod, guessing that Charles had been expected at this time for he addressed him immediately. Chichester was not in any great hurry, so was content to wait. In waiting he noticed that Langdon seemed a little evasive in reply to Tamsin, in fact, the recently purchased Earl seemed eager to pay and dash.

 

"Please, do not cut short your business upon our account." George spoke politely upon his and the new-come ladies part, "I am sure we shall be happy to view the display cases while you finish up." George made a gesture to the little woman, that perhaps they take a better look at the items around the counter -- incidentally stepping forwards would provide a better view the newly polished weapon itself. George was curious.

[Aria]

Tamsin was about to ask Lord Chichester what knowledge of weapons had to do with figuring out how to escape from a finger trap, but she was distracted by the thought of having a dagger created especially for her father. But Lord Langdon had not had his custom-made but had just brought it in for cleaning.

 

“My pleasure, my lord,” Percival replied. The weapon was much shinier and most of the rust had been removed. The inscription now readable and like its copy in the display case, it displayed the words 'In service to the Queen.' It appeared to be the same dagger that he had brought in.

 

The old smith was a bit surprised when the young soldier pulled out his purse. He had thought that he was going to tell him where it came from, since he had offered to clean it for free. Maybe he had not yet discovered who it belonged to or he didn't want to take up too much of his time, considering that there were two other customers in the shop.

 

Lord Chichester assured Lord Langdon that they didn't mind waiting and Tamsin nodded. “I am in no hurry.” Curiously, she moved toward the counter so she could see the dagger better. “There's one like that in the display case over there, but it doesn't have the roses. I might want some Tudor roses engraved on my father's gift. He is fond of that period, though I don't know why.”

 

She looked up at Charles. “Do you mind if I draw them before you go? I left my sketchbook in my coach. I promise it will only take a moment.” Without waiting for an answer, she grinned and hurried out of the shop.

 

About ten seconds later, a frightened scream echoed throughout the shop and it sounded like Tamsin's voice. There appeared to be some kind of scuffle going on outside.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Langdon was, indeed, ready to pay and dash. A secret becomes less so when placed in the glare of third party interest.

 

Tamsin seemed remarkably alert to the distinctions between his dagger and the one in the glass case. A more suspicious man might have wondered at it, but Charles was not particularly suspicious of ladies. She asked to sketch his dagger. As a gentleman what could he do? He silently weighed the alternative of claiming an imminent engagement and excusing himself nevertheless. Yet, before an excuse could be concocted, she was off to retrieve her sketch book. I suppose I could spare a few minutes.

 

It was then that he heard the scream and commotion outside. With a quick glance to George, Charles sprung into action. It was not even consciously done. Charles reacted instinctively to the call to action, especially in the defense of a lady. Leaving the dagger in the care of the shopkeeper temporarily, Charles moved to open the door and venture outside, ready to spring into action if he encountered ruffians. If George chose to follow it would be understandable and welcome, though the soldier had no doubt that he could handle the likely situation single-handedly.

[George Hardwick III]

While Tamsin did not realise it, being raised by a weapons collector had rubbed knowledge off on her. Proof: uncanny exit of the fingertrap, and now swift notice that Charles blade was like the one in the display case. (George had not noticed, possibly Charles had not either). Her eyes knew what she was looking at, and had easily seen the distinctions.

 

"Tudor roses?" George leaned forward to note these for himself.

 

He was soon afforded a good view as the lady unceremoniously exited with plans to draw pictures of the roses on Charles dagger, rather than talk to Percival about it. Something was up. No stranger to dark intrigue, George smelt a rat. Who was this woman actually, who could vouch she was who she said she was.

 

With concern in his eyes he looked to Charles now they were alone. "Something is afoot here Major, keep alert."

 

Though George was thinking she was part of some gang that robbed customers of highly valuable items, and she playing the part of valuation assessor, he had not expected the scream that came after. It did confirm though, the woman's middle name was Intrigue. "That does not sound to be over a notebook!" George rushed out the door, unbuttoning his jacket for better access to his pistol.

[Aria]

The weaponsmith's shop sat by itself on a quiet side street a few blocks away from the Strand. At the moment, it was deserted except for a hired coach parked out front. The driver was nowhere in sight and the two horses hitched to it snorted and tossed their heads when Charles and George charged through the door.

 

At the side of the shop, Tamsin's fur and gloves were lying on the ground and a man was sprawled beside them, holding one hand up to the side of his head. Blood trickled between his fingers. “Hurry!” he gasped when he saw the Earls approaching. “There's three of them! I tried to stop them, but they hit me over the head and took the girl around back!”

 

Muffled voices and scared little whimpers could be heard coming from the rear of the building.

[Charles Whitehurst]

The man on the ground confirmed that there was foul play afoot. This caused Langdon to draw forth his saber, ready for action. Chichester urged caution, causing him to wonder why three men would assault a lady and, instead of riding off with her, would take her around the back of an old building. It would make sense only if they planned to rape her; but why do that in the snow after a driver has been accosted? They could hardly hope to get away with such a foul deed. This was curious. Why too could he hear her whimpers? That meant she was nearby, rather than being whisked away?

 

Still, there was the chance that the young lady was in danger and it was their duty as gentlemen to render assistance. Charles turned to look at George. The man seemed to have a pistol. "I suggest you pull forth your pistol Chichester. You take a wide arc so that you can see the trio and use your pistol. I'll take a closer angle and give them a what for with my blade."

 

He looked at the man on the ground and helped him stand, looking for evidence of any weapon. A coachman would not likely have weapon. If the fallen man before him had a weapon, it would suggest that he might be part of the gang that assaulted the girl. A soldier knew to never let an enemy flank or get behind them.

 

Only when Charles had a judgment about whether the fallen man seemed to be a driver rather than a thug was he ready to move. Things might change if he heard the footsteps and struggling to suggest they were moving away; but, if the men were waiting behind the back of the building, there was time to plan an attack. He looked to see if George was ready and willing to angle to get a better view from a distance.

[George Hardwick III]

It was the direction George needed.

 

He drew his pistol and, noticing the majors cautions, kept it downwards yet towards the wounded man as he was checked over. If he made a sudden move towards Charles, George was ready.

 

"Why did they take her?" he asked the man, there might be a clue in a fantastical tale, or unknowing shrug. Suspicion was your friend in these circumstances, and Geroge's instincts had served him well in the past. There was something highly irregular about this.

 

With a upward jut of chin George signaled his readiness to move out to the side, to cover Charles primary pursuit. The tactic made a perfect sense, though it would never have occurred to the George personally: he'd be angled to shoot past the Majors front if neccessary. (It made far more sense than following him from behind!)

[Aria]

The man on the ground rose shakily to his feet with Charles' assistance. The bump on his head was pulsing in pain, and he gingerly touched it with his bloodied hand. “Thank you, my lord.” He looked to be in his mid-thirties, of average height but with a muscular build. He did not appear to be carrying a weapon.

 

His eyes focused on George when he made his inquiry. “I think they were just looking for someone to rob. They arrived shortly after my passenger entered the shop and at first I thought they were going to attack me. But then the girl came out and they probably saw her as easier prey. They tore off her cloak and gloves like they were looking for jewelry. I jumped down from my coach and charged at them, but I was no match for the three of them.”

 

While the two Earls' attention was on the driver, a hooded head peered from around the corner of the building and immediately disappeared. The voices were quieter now and the whimpering continued.

 

However, as George and Charles moved into their respective positions, they would see only Lady Faraday there, on her hands and knees in the snow as if she had been shoved. Her hair was mussed and she was shivering with cold. The back door to the shop was open, the old metalsmith could be heard shouting, and then the squeal of the bell on the front door pierced the air.

 

Tamsin looked up at them, tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes wide with fright.

[Charles Whitehurst]

The driver might be telling the truth. He was unarmed and had a bloody head. Those were indicia of innocence in the young lord's mind.

 

Seeing the back door open and hearing a commotion inside made Charles harken to the words of the driver that the villains were looking for something or someone to rob. "They are robbing the store," he shouted in alarm.

 

Turning to George momentarily he barked "see to the lady. Do not let her out of your sight." He was used to issuing orders and thought nothing of doing so, even to a peer. Tamsin either needed help and they were duty bound to guard her ... or she was an accomplice and needed to be kept under surveillance.

 

He started back to the front door, hoping to surprise the thieves, and foil any ambush they might plan at the back door. My dagger is in there! It would be his luck that the thieves grabbed it too. It certainly looked valuable to a potential thief. He did not consider yet that the dagger might, in fact, be the target.

 

Bells rang at the front door. The brigands were likely fleeing, which accelerated Langdon's approach into a full sprint. If they planned to jump in the coach, he would attempt to jump on the back. If they ran on foot, he could pursue them on foot if the street was crowded, or he could mount his horse swiftly and give chase if the street traffic might accommodate. As an expert horseman he preferred the latter.

 

He approached the scene shouting "stop those men in the name of the King! A reward for their capture!" With no effective police force, people often relied on the goodwill of people to stop those fleeing from justice. The Earl could only hope that his uniform would help compel assistance, at least from any law abiding citizenry. In the meantime he hoped to get a good look at the fleeing men.

[George Hardwick III]

The drivers tale rung true, while the head that peeked round the side of the building raised alarm bells. Someone was lookout for further nefarious deeds, George (no doubt Charels too) felt concern for the ladies virtue.

 

Rushing to the corner, it was a relief he felt as he saw she knelt weeping - but abandoned - on the ground. Shocked, but intact.

 

His eyes flowing on to the ajar door, and with a nod to Charles they split up. "I'll take her round the front!" he called as Charles hurried inside the back.

 

"Let me help Lady Tamsin." George tempered his voice to sound calm, though he was in a rush really as he helped her to her feet, slid his hand round the crook of her back and drew her round the bend to the front of the building.

 

"Halt, or I shall shoot!" he hollered threateningly to any trying to escape out the front. He was ready to thrust the young woman into the injured drivers hands, to purse at full speed!

 

A villain had gotten away from him on foot before, but not this time!

[Aria]

The carriage driver ran after Charles, ready to help him bring down the thugs who had abducted his passenger. When the Earl reached the front of the shop, the thieves were nowhere in sight, and only two old women were on the street, carrying the purchases that they had made at the market. They both looked up when Charles shouted.

 

Percival stood by the front door, brandishing the dagger he had recently cleaned. He, too, was too old to be of much assistance, but he pointed to where the street bisected with another. “They ran around that corner!”

 

Charles had yelled loud enough to be heard on the street down which they had disappeared, and there was some kind of commotion coming from that direction. Maybe someone was already pursuing them. No honorable man in his right mind would turn down orders from one of the King's soldiers, and even a few dishonorable individuals might be coerced to help by the offered reward.

 

There was no other traffic on the street. It usually became crowded in the afternoon but around noon, it was generally deserted. Only the coach that Tamsin had arrived in was parked in front of the shop. If Charles wanted to pursue them on horseback, the way was clear.

 

In the back of the shop, Tamsin allowed George to help her to her feet. “Thank you, my lord. They took my money and my jewelry and I thought they were going to kill me! They had knives!” She didn't expect him to take her with him, but she moved as fast as she could, wincing when George shouted that he would shoot if the thieves didn't stop.

 

The two elderly women glanced over at him, saw his pistol, and started shuffling down the street as quickly as their old legs could take them.

[Charles Whitehurst]

Seeing Percival at the front door caused his pace to slow momentarily as he heard the old man explain the escape route. "Did they rob you?" he inquired as he saw his dagger in the hand of the weaponsmith.

 

"I may be needing that," Langdon declared as he reached to collect the polished dagger from Percy. it was not so much that he planned to stab any ruffian with a dagger, but it would give him a weapon to compliment his drawn sword.

 

A momentarily glance backwards confirmed that Tamsin had been rescued. Hardwick was rushing to assist the Major/Colonel. Since George was on foot, it helped Charles decide that horseback was the best vehicle for pursuit. The Earl attempted to demonstrate his finest and quickest mounting technique. "Look after the lady," he called to the weaponsmith. If George intended to pursue the villains too, then there would be no one but the driver and the merchant to look after her.

 

There was some sort of commotion ahead. Maybe the brigands had been slowed, if not stopped. Spurring on his mount into a gallop, Charles gave chase, sword brandished. Who knew what might wait for him around the corner. Given that there were three villains, he needed to be somewhat cautious not to get outmatched.

[George Hardwick III]

While George usualy attended to his manners intently, under the circumstances they were set aside. Bringing Tamsin to her feet, he rushed her round the front, and arrived within moments of Langdon.

 

The hoodlums were making a dash for it still! (he ignored the frightened women scurrying)

 

Manfully thrusting Tamsin towards the driver "Stay here." he spun on heel and gave chase on foot. Initially as Langdon climbed into his saddle, George set into the lead, but quickly enough the thundering hooves of horse flew by and rounded the corner.

 

At break neck speed took the corner, one hand flying out to catch the wall to help sling himself around it. Gun still ready to help, and blood pounding for justice. His eyes keen and alert to the surroundings.

 

He was motivated by far more than a batch of street thugs that had tipped a lady over, but from the memory of Jane's Fathers murderers escape. 12 months ago he'd been disturbed of the grizzly scene, and anxious, hesitant of chase, over caring of his own life even. Those things did not slow him down any more. The shame of having to tell Jane the murderer had gotten away would not come upon him a second time: the men who roughed up Tamsin and the driver would not get off scot free.

[Aria]

On horseback, Charles was the first to round the corner, but George was close behind. The ruckus was coming from farther down the street where a farmer's cart had overturned in the middle of the road. Winter vegetables littered the ground and four men were brawling beside it, cursing and swinging their fists. Five people were watching and a couple of women were gathering vegetables and placing them in pouches made from bunching up their skirts.

 

When they heard the sound of pounding hooves, one of the women took off running and so did two of the observers. One of them had a bag in his hand that he quickly stuffed into his pocket. He was not wearing a hooded cloak. The fighters were too absorbed in their brawl to notice either Charles or George.

[Charles Whitehurst]

The scene was not one that he expected. Charles had been expecting a gand of brigands running together away from him so they might be better able to be identified. Instead, he came upon a melee of commoners fighting over spilt winter vegetables. It made identification of the assailants more difficult. His gaze swept the scene as his sword was held aloft. Hopefully his uniform would give him the authority he needed to sort out things.

 

"Ho there," he shouted at the hooded figure attempting to pocket some bag. It was unclear whether the bag might contain the belongings of Tamsin, the shopkeeper, or neither of the two. "Halt in the name of the King." His sword was pointed directly at the accused, his horse edging forward.

 

As for the rest of the crowd, the Earl gave them less attention but shouted "where are the other men that came fleeing around the corner?" He assumed that some of the robbers might be involved in the melee, but it was possible that they had, instead, melted away into alleys and buildings.

[George Hardwick III]

It took only a moment to see that their crooks were hiding beyond the scene in the street. While the major called for those about to provide information, George holstered his weapon and tried open the nearest door. "Anyone suseicious enter her a moment ago?" he called, as he begun a door to door search in paralell with Charles own hunt.

 

He kept an eye out for Charles progress, just as he assumed Charles kept an eye out upon his.

[Aria]

At Charles' shout, the thief ... a thin unkempt man of indeterminate age with a scraggly beard… stopped in his tracks, pulled the bag out of his pocket, and tossed it toward the soldier.

 

“Hey! That's mine!” one of the observers cried when she saw the pouch, but she made no move to pick it up, looking up at Charles for permission.

 

The woman who had stolen the vegetables ducked inside one of the modest houses that lined the street and the men who were fighting suddenly moved away from each other, although one got in a final punch that sent another sprawling onto his backside. “Two of 'em got away, but I caught one of 'em,” a big burly man declared proudly.

 

The fellow on the ground got up and claimed: “I saw 'im first. I should get the reward.”

 

The two other fighters also chimed in, each insisting that he had been the one who captured the thug and deserved the reward. Said thug, however, was nowhere in sight.

 

As George tried the doors, he would find the first three locked. The fourth opened easily, revealing a hooded figure standing just inside. He was holding a knife to the throat of the woman who had stolen the vegetables, which had fallen from her skirt onto the floor. Her eyes were wide with fear.

 

“Let me go or I'll slit 'er throat!” the thief demanded. His voice sounded young but determined.