'Going to send the general public skipping,' she answered.
'You cannot do it. It is not safe to leave the house.'
'Trust me. I've swept the poultry off, and I'm not afraid of the public. I know how to deal with them as I do with fowls.'
Before Drownlands had time to offer further remonstrance, she had darted out of the office, run to her own room, taken a pair of fencing foils from the stores, had descended the stairs two steps at a time, had unbarred the door and was out in the yard, making for the van.
'Stand still—don't move,' she said to Jewel, as she passed his head; and he turned one of his eyes at her and winked.
'Clear away at once,' she shouted to those around the van. 'You have taken my money, and must let the conveyance alone.'
'Yes, you have. I sent out ten pounds to you. Go, ask your commander, secretary, treasurer, or whatever you call him. He has pocketed my ten pounds, and you are bound to leave my van alone. I am the Cheap Jack girl.'
'Are you the daughter of the Cheap Jack who died here?'
'Yes, I am; and this is my van. Hands off. You have no quarrel against me. What have I done to make bread dear and keep wages low? I do not belong to these parts. Stand aside.'
She thrust her way to the back of the van where was the glass door. This had been opened, and several men had ensconced themselves inside on the benches.
Zita entered, a foil in each hand. Within it was dark, but she nevertheless knew that the interior was packed full of men.
'This is my conveyance,' she said imperiously; 'you have no more right to enter it than you have to occupy the house of the Lord Mayor. I have got a sword in each hand. I cannot see any one in the dark, but I will dagg with each hand, as you dagg for eels, and I will go on dagging till I have got a man wriggling at the end of each.'
Down went the front of the van, and out tumbled a dozen lusty men, one over another, stumbling, falling, sprawling, in the trampled snow and straw.
Zita went through the van from aft to fore, and satisfied herself that it was cleared of its human occupants. Then, standing on the platform, which had been thrown forward by those who burst away from her foils, she looked up at the roof. A score of men and youths was on it, their legs pendent.