Jacob complied, and accompanied Randulph to the corner of Hedge Lane, a narrow thoroughfare running into Cockspur Street, where he took his leave. Randulph and his uncle then tracked the lane above mentioned, until they came to Whitcomb Street, where Kitty Conway then resided, having removed from the Hay-market to an old house in the latter street, erected three years after the Great Fire of London—namely, 1669.
Never having visited the pretty actress in her new abode, but having been told in the note that this date, which was inscribed in large figures on a shield over the door, would guide him to it, Randulph was looking out for the house, when he observed three men at a little distance behind him, who seemed to be dogging him and his uncle. The foremost was a tall thin man; the second a stout, square-set personage, attired in a shabby military garb; and the third a great hulking fellow with an atrociously black muzzle, dressed in a blue jacket, short trousers, and woollen cap.
Randulph could not help fancying he had seen these personages before, though he could not tell where, but he did not concern himself much about them, until just as he had discovered Kitty Conway’s dwelling, and was about to knock at the door, he saw that they were quickening their pace towards him. On a nearer approach, he was at no loss to detect Philip Frewin, and in his companions, Captain Culpepper and the fellow who had officiated as Jack-in-the-water at the Folly on the Thames.
‘Here is your man!’ shouted Philip, pointing out Randulph to the others; ‘upon him! don’t leave an unbroken bone in his body.’
Randulph, however, was prepared for the attack. Grasping the stout cane he held in his hand, he dealt Philip so severe a blow on the head with it that he stretched him on his back on the ground. At the same moment, Trussell received a blow from the cudgel of the athletic sailor, which sent him reeling against the door, to the posts of which he clung for support, while the ruffian turning to assault Randulph, encountered an unexpected adversary in the person of Jacob Post.
‘I thought what you were after, you scoundrels, when I saw you doggin’ these gen’l’men,’ cried Jacob; ‘I’m glad I got up in time. Turn your cudgel this way, you black-muzzled hound! Two can play at your game.’
While Jacob and his antagonist rapped away at each other as hard as they could, making the welkin ring with their blows, Randulph turned upon Culpepper, who attempted to draw his sword to assail him, and belaboured him so lustily with his cane, that the latter was soon fain to cry for quarter.