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way； was gone。
Gashford followed the direction of his glance instinctively； and
saw； standing on the pavement； and wearing the blue cockade； Sir
John Chester。 He held his hat an inch or two above his head； to
propitiate the mob； and； resting gracefully on his cane； smiling
pleasantly； and displaying his dress and person to the very best
advantage； looked on in the most tranquil state imaginable。 For all
that； and quick and dexterous as he was； Gashford had seen him
recognise Hugh with the air of a patron。 He had no longer any
eyes for the crowd； but fixed his keen regards upon Sir John。
He stood in the same place and posture until the last man in the
concourse had turned the corner of the street； then very
deliberately took the blue cockade out of his hat； put it carefully in
his pocket； ready for the next emergency； refreshed himself with a
pinch of snuff； put up his box； and was walking slowly off； when a
passing carriage stopped； and a lady’s hand let down the glass。 Sir
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John’s hat was off again immediately。 After a minute’s
conversation at the carriage…window； in which it was apparent
that he was vastly entertaining on the subject of the mob； he
stepped lightly in； and was driven away。
The secretary smiled； but he had other thoughts to dwell upon；
and soon dismissed the topic。 Dinner was brought him； but he sent
it down untasted； and； in restless pacings up and down the room；
and constant glances at the clock； and many futile efforts to sit
down and read； or go to sleep； or look out of the window；
consumed four weary hours。 When the dial told him thus much
time had crept away； he stole upstairs to the top of the house； and
coming out upon the roof sat down； with his face towards the east。
Heedless of the fresh air that blew upon his heated brow； of the
pleasant meadows from which he turned； of the piles of roofs and
chimneys upon which he looked； of the smoke and rising mist he
vainly sought to pierce； of the shrill cries of children at their
evening sports； the distant hum and turmoil of the town； the
cheerful country breath that rustled past to meet it； and to droop；
and die； he watched； and watched； till it was dark save for the
specks of light that twinkled in the streets below and far away—
and； as the darkness deepened； strained his gaze and grew more
eager yet。
‘Nothing but gloom in that direction； still！’ he muttered
restlessly。 ‘Dog！ where is the redness in the sky； you promised me！’
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Chapter 54
umours of the prevailing disturbances had； by this time；
Rbegun to be pretty generally circulated through the towns
and villages round London； and the tidings were
everywhere received with that appetite for the marvellous and
love of the terrible which have probably been among the natural
characteristics of mankind since the creation of the world。 These
accounts； however； appeared； to many persons at that day—as
they would to us at the present； but that we know them to be
matter of history—so monstrous and improbable； that a great
number of those who were resident at a distance； and who were
credulous enough on other points； were really unable to bring
their minds to believe that such things could be； and rejected the
intelligence they received on all hands； as wholly fabulous and
absurd。
Mr Willet—not so much； perhaps； on account of his having
argued and settled the matter with himself； as by reason of his
constitutional obstinacy—was one of those who positively refused
to entertain the current topic for a moment。 On this very evening；
and perhaps at the very time when Gashford kept his solitary
watch； old John was so red in the face with perpetually shaking his
head in contradiction of his three ancient cronies and pot
companions； that he was quite a phenomenon to behold； and
lighted up the Maypole Porch wherein they sat together； like a
monstrous carbuncle in a fairy tale。
‘Do you think； sir；’ said Mr Willet； looking hard at Solomon
Daisy—for it was his custom in cases of personal altercation to
fasten upon the smallest man in the party—‘do you think； sir； that
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I’m a born fool？’
‘No； no； Johnny；’ returned Solomon； looking round upon the
little circle of which he formed a part： ‘We all know better than
that。 You’re no fool； Johnny。 No； no！’
Mr Cobb and Mr Parkes shook their heads in unison；
muttering； ‘No； no； Johnny； not you！’ But as such compliments
had usually the effect of making Mr Willet rather more dogged
than before； he surveyed them with a look of deep disdain； and
returned for answer：
‘Then what do you mean by coming here； and telling me that
this evening you’re a…going to walk up to London together—you
three—you—and have the evidence of your own senses？ An’t；’ said
Mr Willet； putting his pipe in his mouth with an air of solemn
disgust； ‘an’t the evidence of my senses enough for you？’
‘But we haven’t got it； Johnny；’ pleaded Parkes； humbly。
‘You haven’t got it； sir？’ repeated Mr Willet； eyeing him from
top to toe。 ‘You haven’t got it； sir？ You have got it； sir。 Don’t I tell
you that His blessed Majesty King George the Third would no
more stand a rioting and rollicking in his streets； than he’d stand
being crowed over by his own Parliament？’