he said.
“All right then. Just the legs.” Grimly smiled at Tom. “He’s a handsome fellow. Interesting hair colour. Nice eyes. Let’s leave the top half alone.”
Belter grabbed hold of him and Tom screamed.
Then the doors of the yard crashed open.
Tom was too far gone to understand fully what was happening but he became dimly aware that Belter had straightened up again and that Grimly was walking forward with a look of annoyance on his face. “You!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
Tom forced his head to turn so that he could see the new arrival. A boy a couple of years older than himself was standing by the open door, leaning against the wall and smoking a pipe. He was looking at the scene with what could only be described as an amused smile. Tom thought he had seen the boy somewhere before but he knew that was impossible.
“Let the boy go,” the new arrival demanded.
“What?” Grimly looked more sad than angry. “But he came here of his own choice,” he protested. “I found him at Paul’s Walk…”
“Oh yes! And you explained to him all about your little ‘adjustments’ I’m sure. Just like all the others!”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! We can talk about this…!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Snivel reaching into a fold in his shirt. While Grimly prattled on, the old man’s hand inched out and now it was holding a wicked-looking knife. Tom opened his mouth to call out a warning to the boy but there was no need. In a single movement he swept back his cloak to reveal a short sword which was suddenly out of its scabbard and in his hand, slicing through the air. The blade caught the edge of the knife, tore it out of Snivel’s hand and sent it spinning through the air to clatter harmlessly on the ground. Then the point of the boy’s sword was at Grimly’s throat, pressing against the skin.
“Please!” Grimly’s black eyes bulged. A bead of sweat trickled over his neck. “This is just business. It’s nothing to do with you. He’s my boy. I found him.”
The boy shook his head and pressed a little harder with the sword. “Not this one, Grimly. He’s a friend of mine. Let him go.”
A
friend of mine?
So Tom was right. He had seen the boy somewhere before. But where?
Grimly had one last try. “But look at him!” he moaned. “Nice face. Intelligent eyes. But sad with it. We were just going to take off his legs. He’ll earn a fortune.”
“Maybe,” the boy replied. “But you won’t be alive to see it.” His hand tightened on the sword. “I’ve often thought London would be better off without you, Grimly,” he said. “All I need is the excuse…”
“No! Take him!” Grimly was on the edge of tears and his voice was a whisper. Belter and Snivel ran forward and a few seconds later the ropes had fallen away and Tom was able to stand up.
“This way…” the boy said. He had lowered his sword but his eyes never left the three men.
Tom staggered over to him and he and the boy left the yard together. It was only when they had reached the end of the alley and emerged into the main street that he realized two things.
The first thing was that he
did
know the boy. He had seen him the night before at the Red Lion, stealing a purse in the middle of the play.
And the second thing was that he wasn’t a boy at all. He might be wearing trousers, carrying a sword and smoking a pipe, but Tom had just been rescued by a girl!
moll cutpurse
“My name,” she said, “is Moll Cutpurse.”
“Cutpurse?” Tom frowned. “Is that your real name?”
“One of them. I’ve got lots.” Moll thought for a moment. “I used to be called Mary but I soon put a stop to that. Much too girlish.” She rubbed her chin as if hoping to find stubble there. “You wouldn’t want to be a girl,” she said. “Not in the sixteenth century!”
“What do you do?” Tom asked.
“What do you think I do?” Moll exclaimed. “I’m a thief. A highly qualified thief. In
“All right then. Just the legs.” Grimly smiled at Tom. “He’s a handsome fellow. Interesting hair colour. Nice eyes. Let’s leave the top half alone.”
Belter grabbed hold of him and Tom screamed.
Then the doors of the yard crashed open.
Tom was too far gone to understand fully what was happening but he became dimly aware that Belter had straightened up again and that Grimly was walking forward with a look of annoyance on his face. “You!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
Tom forced his head to turn so that he could see the new arrival. A boy a couple of years older than himself was standing by the open door, leaning against the wall and smoking a pipe. He was looking at the scene with what could only be described as an amused smile. Tom thought he had seen the boy somewhere before but he knew that was impossible.
“Let the boy go,” the new arrival demanded.
“What?” Grimly looked more sad than angry. “But he came here of his own choice,” he protested. “I found him at Paul’s Walk…”
“Oh yes! And you explained to him all about your little ‘adjustments’ I’m sure. Just like all the others!”
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! We can talk about this…!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Snivel reaching into a fold in his shirt. While Grimly prattled on, the old man’s hand inched out and now it was holding a wicked-looking knife. Tom opened his mouth to call out a warning to the boy but there was no need. In a single movement he swept back his cloak to reveal a short sword which was suddenly out of its scabbard and in his hand, slicing through the air. The blade caught the edge of the knife, tore it out of Snivel’s hand and sent it spinning through the air to clatter harmlessly on the ground. Then the point of the boy’s sword was at Grimly’s throat, pressing against the skin.
“Please!” Grimly’s black eyes bulged. A bead of sweat trickled over his neck. “This is just business. It’s nothing to do with you. He’s my boy. I found him.”
The boy shook his head and pressed a little harder with the sword. “Not this one, Grimly. He’s a friend of mine. Let him go.”
A
friend of mine?
So Tom was right. He had seen the boy somewhere before. But where?
Grimly had one last try. “But look at him!” he moaned. “Nice face. Intelligent eyes. But sad with it. We were just going to take off his legs. He’ll earn a fortune.”
“Maybe,” the boy replied. “But you won’t be alive to see it.” His hand tightened on the sword. “I’ve often thought London would be better off without you, Grimly,” he said. “All I need is the excuse…”
“No! Take him!” Grimly was on the edge of tears and his voice was a whisper. Belter and Snivel ran forward and a few seconds later the ropes had fallen away and Tom was able to stand up.
“This way…” the boy said. He had lowered his sword but his eyes never left the three men.
Tom staggered over to him and he and the boy left the yard together. It was only when they had reached the end of the alley and emerged into the main street that he realized two things.
The first thing was that he
did
know the boy. He had seen him the night before at the Red Lion, stealing a purse in the middle of the play.
And the second thing was that he wasn’t a boy at all. He might be wearing trousers, carrying a sword and smoking a pipe, but Tom had just been rescued by a girl!
moll cutpurse
“My name,” she said, “is Moll Cutpurse.”
“Cutpurse?” Tom frowned. “Is that your real name?”
“One of them. I’ve got lots.” Moll thought for a moment. “I used to be called Mary but I soon put a stop to that. Much too girlish.” She rubbed her chin as if hoping to find stubble there. “You wouldn’t want to be a girl,” she said. “Not in the sixteenth century!”
“What do you do?” Tom asked.
“What do you think I do?” Moll exclaimed. “I’m a thief. A highly qualified thief. In
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