Immediately the ring that had been formed about the bear and dogs dissolved, and re-formed itself into a figure eight about the several contending parties--some clustering round the bear and dogs, others about the two burly young men, whose fight promised to give greater entertainment than that in the other circle.
Kate was suddenly grasped by a firm hand and drawn away out of danger. She looked up, and saw that she was held by Walter Bramber.
“Oh, my workbox!”
“Never mind your workbox. You were exposed to great risk.”
He drew her through the throng.
“Oh, Mr. Bramber, look! look! There is Jan fighting with Noah. It is all because of the workbox. Do go and separate them.”
“Not till I have brought you to your father. You cannot be safely trusted in such a crowd,--at least, not with such reckless and quarrelsome fellows as Pooke and the other.”
“Yes,” said Kate, the tears running down her cheeks, “take me to my father. I wish I had not come here; but indeed--indeed--this is no fault of mine.”
“No; of that I am very sure. You are inexperienced, that is all. There come the constables; they will separate the combatants. Be no further concerned for them. I will not now leave you till you are safe out of the fair.”