He was thus engaged, in calm contemplation with his back to the street, when he was very slightly jostled by a passer-by. He scarcely noticed the incident, but if he had known who it was that touched him he would not have remained so placid, for it was Hester herself, in company with Peter the Great, on their way to the city walls.
As Hester’s eyes were fixed on the ground and her thoughts on her father, while Foster’s attention was concentrated on the turner’s toes, neither observed the other, but Peter’s sharp eyes had noted the middy, and he hurried past to prevent a recognition, which might be awkward, if not dangerous, at the moment.
Presently Foster’s attention was attracted by a Moor who was riding along the street, sitting side-wise as was the wont of Algerines of the trading-class. What struck Foster particularly about this man and his donkey was that the latter was trotting very fast, although it was a very small animal, and the man on its back a very large one. He also observed that the donkey tossed its head and put back its ears as if it were suffering pain. As the Moor’s hand rested on the donkey’s haunch, the reason at once occurred to Foster, for he had noticed the same thing before. It was the practice, among cruel men, to create, and keep open, a small sore on the haunch of each animal, by irritating which with a little bit of stick they managed to make their donkeys go in a way that a spur or a thick stick could not accomplish!
Now, our middy possessed a tender heart, which shrank sensitively from the idea of giving pain to any living creature, and which almost exploded with indignation at the sight of wanton cruelty to dumb animals.
When, therefore, the Moor came alongside of him, Foster gave him a look of tremendous indignation, at the same time exclaiming, “Shame on you!”
The Moor turned on him a look of mingled surprise and scorn. At the same time muttering, “Christian dog!” he brought a stick smartly down on the middy’s shoulders.
This was too much to bear meekly. The boiling blood in the youth’s heart boiled over into his face. He leaped forward, seized the donkey’s rein with one hand, caught the man’s left leg with the other, and hurled the rider backward to the ground.
The bump with which the Moor’s head came down had the effect of keeping it low, but the spectators of the incident, who were numerous, rushed upon the poor middy, seized him, and carried him straight to a court of justice.
They had a summary method of transacting business in those courts, especially in simple cases like that of which we treat. The investigation was rapid; the evidence of the witnesses emphatic. Almost before he had recovered breath our hero was thrown down, his feet were raised by two strong attendants, his shoes plucked off, and the soles of his feet made to tingle as if they had been set on fire.
After a few strokes, which he bore in silence, he was led to the common prison, thrust into it, and left to his meditations.