He was perfectly cool and collected, though his hat was off and his wig awry. "A thousand thanks, my men. Whew! 'twas in the nick of time. Where are the rest of you?"
"There are no more, my lord," said Harry, lifting his cap.
"No more! But the shouts, then?—I heard a dozen shouting, at least. Are the rest on the other side of the wall?"
"All on this side, my lord," said Harry with a smile. "Here is the mob."
He indicated Sherebiah, who touched his cap and bobbed to his lordship.
Godolphin stared, then chuckled and guffawed.
"Egad! 'tis a rare flam. Frank, this fellow here did it all, shouted for a dozen; by George, 'twas a mighty neat trick! And, by George, I know your face; I saw you yesterday, I believe! What's your name, man?"
"Sherebiah Stand-up-and-bless Minshull, my lord," said Sherry, "by the water o' baptism, your honour, for I was born while old Rowley were in furren parts. If a'd been born two year arter, my lord, I med ha' been chrisomed wi' less piety."
"I remember you, and the old gaffer your father—a fine old fellow. Well, my man, your name suits me better; 'tis for us to stand up and bless, eh, Frank? And here's a guinea for you."
Sherebiah put his hands behind him and looked down at the coin in my lord's hand.