1 Hard in his rear.
"Stop, thief!" bellowed No. 1, louder than ever.
"Stop, thief!" roared Barnabas, louder still, and running like the
wind. Thus, No. 1 continued to bellow along behind, and Barnabas ran
on roaring before, by dint of which he had very soon drawn about him
divers other eager pursuers who, in their turn, taking up the cry,
filled the air with a raving clamor that grew and ever grew. On sped
Barnabas, still yelling "thieves," and with a yelling rabblement all
about him, on he went by crooked ways, plunging down gloomy courts,
doubling sudden corners, leading the pursuit ever deeper into the
maze of dark alleys and crooked back streets, until, spying a place
suitable to his purpose, he turned aside, and darting down a dark
and narrow entry-way, he paused there in the kindly shelter to
regain his breath, and heard the hue and cry go raving past until it
had roared itself into the distance. Then, very cautiously and with
no little difficulty, he retraced his steps, and coming at length to
the River, crossed Blackfriars Bridge and hurried west-wards; nor
did he stop or slacken his swift pace until he found himself in that
quiet, back-street at the end of which his stables were situated.
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