The afternoon dragged wearily on and, what with the suffocating stench of the filth that plastered me, what with heat and dust and agonising thirst, my suffering grew almost beyond endurance; a deadly nausea seized me and I came nigh to swooning. But now, in this my great extremity, of a sudden, from somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd rose a shrill cry of "Fire!" the which cry, being taken up by others, filled the air with panic, the crowd melted as if by magic until the village green and the road were quite deserted. All this I noted but dimly (being more dead than alive) when I became conscious of one that spake in my ear.
"Stand by, shipmate, stand by! There's never a rogue left--all run to the fire--stand by to slip your moorings!"
"Let be," I groaned, "I'm a dead man!"
"Then here's that shall make ye quick," says this fellow Penfeather, dangling a great key before my swimming eyes. "Here's freedom from your devil's trap and a plaguy time I've had to come by it."
"Then for the love o' God--let me out," I groaned.
"Easy all, shipmate!" says he, turning the key upon his finger. "For look'ee now, here's me, (a timid man) run no small risk this last half-hour and all for you. Now a bargain's a bargain, you'll agree?"
"Well?" says I, faintly.
"Why then, shipmate, if I free ye of your bonds, wilt be my comrade sworn? Aye or no?"
"No!" says I. "Plague take ye that bargain with dying man. No!"
"Why then," sighs he, "here's a good rick ablaze, here's John Purdy the beadle wi' his head broke, and here's me in a sweat, alack--and all to no purpose, since needs must you in your bilboes bide."
"Do but get me a draft of water!" I pleaded.
"Nary a drop!" says he, spinning the key on his finger under my nose, "Nor yet a foaming stoup o' good Kentish ale--nut brown--"
"Ha, rogue--rogue!" I panted, 'twixt parched lips. "I'll yet--avenge this torment--an' I live!"
"The legs of a man," says he, "are a vain thing and his strength likewise, and as to vengeance, shipmate, well--how goeth your vengeance as be more to ye than fortune or riches?" Here he paused, but I held my peace and he continued, "Here's you now, you that was so mighty and fierce--aye, a very hell-fire roarer--here's that same you a-hanging here a very helpless, pitiful fool, shipmate, and thirsty 'twould seem--"
Here I groaned again.
"And one not over sweet!" says he, stopping his nose.
Hereupon I cursed him, though faintly, and he comes a step nearer.