the throng; and the players, waving their scarlet caps until the long
line tossed like a poppy-garden in a summer rain, gave a cheer that
fairly set the crockery to dancing upon the shelves of the stalls in
Middle Bow.

"Hurrah!" shouted Nicholas Attwood, his blue eyes shining with delight.
"Hurrah, hurrah, for the Admiral's men!" And high in the air he threw
his cap, as a wild cheer broke from the eddying crowd, and the arches of
the long gray bridge rang hollow with the tread of hoofs. Whiff, came
the wind; down dropped the hat upon the very saddle-peak of one tall
fellow riding along among the rest. Catching it quickly as it fell, he
laughed and tossed it back; and when Nick caught it whirling in the air,
a shilling jingled from it to the ground.

Then up Fore Bridge street they all trooped after into Stratford town.

"Oh," cried Robin, "it is brave, brave!"

"Brave?" cried Nick. "It makes my very heart jump. And see, Robin, 'tis
a shilling, a real silver shilling--oh, what fellows they all be! Hurrah
for the Lord High Admiral's men!"




CHAPTER II


NICHOLAS ATTWOOD'S HOME