“True,” said Ned Warbeck; “but evil designs and curses, like chickens, come home to roost. What they intended and wished might fall upon myself and Charley have overtaken themselves.”
“But Death-wing is not yet captured, Ned,” said Garnet; “it would be an excellent finish to all our adventures to arouse the London Apprentices, at least, a select hand of them, and utterly destroy Death-wing and all that remains of his band.”
“I intend to do so,” said Ned, “and to-night shall see the accomplishment of that design.”
During the day, Ned Warbeck, Garnet, Bob Bertram and Tim, were continually on horseback, riding hither and thither, consulting with some of the bravest and choicest spirits among the Apprentices, and towards night all preparations were completed.
Select detachments of the young Apprentices, under the guidance of well-known leaders, assembled at the halls of their several guilds, all armed, and eager for the fray.
The butcher boys with long knives, cleavers, choppers, and ponderous axes, were ready, and marshalled in fours ready to march at the given time.
The blacksmiths’ apprentices, with sledge hammers, crowbars, and other ponderous weapons, were assembled at another place.
The sword makers, cutlers, and others, with all manner of implements of war, sharp and bright, had gathered together.
Five detachments, from no less than six trades, were under arms; but none of them, save their chosen leaders, knew on what errand they were bound.
“Who is to lead us?” some of them whispered.