Around the River's Bend Read Online Free Page B

time.”
    Sabrina was shocked. She knew prostitutes inhabited London but had never seen one—at least not this close. The woman’s face was pitted, and her face was so covered with paint it was difficult to tell her age. Sabrina shook her head and muttered no and took the woman’s curse as she went on down the street.
    Finally she reached the wharf and found herself in the middle of the milling crowd. Drawn up close to the shore was a barge. Sabrina could see that a square had been marked off in the middle of the barge with four posts marking the corners and ropes running about the square. Two men were cleaning the surface of the ring, and crowds of men were jostling for good seats around it.
    She edged in toward the gangway until she was stopped by a man who said, “Half a crown admission.” He held his hand out and waited until Sabrina had fished the coin out of her pocket. She made her way onto the wharf and determined where she could get a good view of the action. Vendors selling beer and gin moved among the crowd, shouting the virtues of their wares. Every spectator, it seemed, was smoking. Sabrina pulled out one of the cigars she had purchased but realized she had no match.
    â€œâ€™Ere, you need a light?”
    Sabrina turned to her right, where a tall, lean man held his own cigar out. Putting the cigar in her mouth, she touched the other end to the glowing tip of the man’s cigar. She had never smoked in her life, but she had seen enough men doing it. She got the cigar going, but then suddenly her throat was full of smoke. She began to cough, and the tall man beside her patted her on the back. “Come now, lad, none of that!”
    Sabrina quickly drew back. “I’m all right,” she said huskily.
    â€œYou come to many bouts?”
    â€œNo. As a matter of fact, this is my first.”
    â€œYou tell me that! Well, let me explain the rules to you. . . .”
    Sabrina was content to listen to her neighbor. He evidently loved the sound of his own voice, and it was, indeed, a pleasant voice. In fact, it was the best thing about the man, apparently. “It’s like this, you see. When a man gets knocked down or thrown down, he’s got thirty seconds to come to scratch.”
    â€œâ€˜Come to scratch’? What’s that?”
    â€œUntil he can come back to the middle of the ring and start fighting again. There ain’t no hittin’ below the belt allowed, and no strikin’ a man that’s fallen, don’t you see.”
    â€œHow long does the fight last?”
    â€œHow long? Well, you are a chicken, ain’t you? It lasts until one of the men ain’t able to come to scratch. Every time a man goes down, that’s one round. I seen one bout once where there was a hundred twenty-seven rounds.”
    â€œI see.” Sabrina listened as her neighbor continued his speech, like a river going on and on and on. She noticed that the noisy crowd around her was full of gamblers. Most of the men appeared to be from the lower class. She saw the tavern keeper from the Red Lion, and she even saw chimney sweeps dressed in the top hat of their trade. There were all sorts of young dandies out for a grand time. The only women there were prostitutes, and there were few of these.
    But the upper classes were represented, also. As she turned to scan the crowd, she saw her father and Charles Stratton up at the very edge of the ring in the best seats. They were smoking cigars and talking and laughing, and for an instant Sabrina had an impulse to go down and join them. This, however, would be far too risky, so she simply stood listening as the tall man continued to tell her about the match.
    â€œThis won’t be much of a bout,” he said, waving his hand in a disparaging fashion.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause, don’t you see, it’s Big Ben who’s fightin’.”
    â€œWho is he?”
    â€œWhy, he’s the