A Very Unusual Pursuit by Catherine Jinks Read Free Book Online Page B

hanging open. But then one of the sailors darted forward to tug at the veil that dangled from Miss Eames’s hat.
    ‘ Oi! You leave her be! ’ Enraged, Birdie rushed to defend the poor lady, dodging a bemused customs-house officer who had stopped to stare at the loud and drunken gang cluttering up the street.
    ‘ My cruel parents are being too unkind; they drive and punish me and trouble my mind . . .
    ’ ‘Oh, Birdie,’ Miss Eames whimpered. Everything about her was dishevelled; her clothes, her hair, the contents of her basket. ‘They’ve been following me and I don’t know why . . .’
    ‘Well, they’ll follow you no further!’ Stepping between Miss Eames and the gang, Birdie put her hands on her hips and cried, ‘All o’ you, go back to yer mumping and yer shirking and let us honest citizens alone!’
    ‘Oh-ho!’ The largest porter peered down at Birdie, swaying a little, as the song sputtered and died around him. ‘What’s this? Another lunatic?’
    ‘You’d best turn tail or you’ll be sorry!’ When a burst of raucous laughter greeted this warning, Birdie went on to announce, ‘I’m ’prenticed to a Go-Devil man, and he’s down there now, on the water! With his bag on his back!’
    The two sailors immediately crossed themselves, retreating a few steps. The most sinister-looking member of the gang muttered a curse and slunk away. Only a couple of faces didn’t fall. They belonged to a very large porter with an oversized head and a very drunk lout in a blue neckerchief, who was having a hard time keeping his balance.
    ‘A Go-Devil man?’ the porter brayed. ‘Then bring him here, and I’ll tell ’im to go to the devil!’
    ‘Hsst.’ His cannier friend prodded him in the ribs.
    ‘Careful, matey. Ain’t no sense in turning one o’ them coves against ’ee.’
    ‘Or he’ll open his sack!’ Birdie threatened. Then she turned on her heel and grabbed Miss Eames, who was hovering nearby, looking dumbfounded.
    Ned was also within easy reach. It pleased Birdie that he had followed her. ‘Ain’t one o’ them lags worth fretting over,’ she informed him, as she led Miss Eames to safety. ‘But thanks for standing by me, Ned. I’ll not forget it.’
    Ned flushed again. He flicked a doubtful glance at Miss Eames, who said, ‘Oh, Birdie! I’m so sorry! But I assure you, I never uttered a word —’
    ‘You didn’t have to. Them clothes was all it took.’ Studying the crumpled brim of Miss Eames’s hat, Birdie had to suppress a smile. ‘Why’d you dress so glocky, miss? You look like a halfwit.’
    Startled, Miss Eames peered down at herself. ‘I was assured that this ensemble would pass muster in the lowest dens,’ she faltered.
    ‘The lowest dens of Bedlam, perhaps!’ Birdie gave a snort. ‘Whoever told you that was a dirty liar.’
    ‘It was a Houndsditch woman,’ Miss Eames confessed. ‘A dealer in old clothes.’
    ‘Well, miss, it seems like you was the answer to all her prayers,’ said Birdie. ‘I’ll lay you a shilling that she sold you all the slops she couldn’t unload – and charged you double for ’em.’ Stopping abruptly at the edge of the wharf, Birdie added, ‘But don’t fret. Ain’t no one’ll trouble you, now you’re with a bogler’s girl.’
    ‘Oh, dear.’ Miss Eames was dabbing at her flushed face with a cotton handkerchief. ‘How dreadful this is! And how sorry I am! You shouldn’t be called upon to defend any one; not at your age. It shouldn’t have happened. Forgive me.’
    Birdie shrugged. Then she pointed at Alfred, who was down on the mudflats, in front of the drain. ‘There’s Mr Bunce,’ she said, ‘and that’s the bogle’s lair. You can watch from up here, until Mr Bunce tells you different.’ Glancing at Ned, she explained, ‘If there’s too much bustle and chatter, the bogle won’t come.’
    ‘But what is Mr Bunce doing ?’ Miss Eames demanded. Ned was also looking puzzled, and even Birdie had to think for a moment when