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impossible； began to beat the stones and tear them with his hands；
as if he could that way make a breach in the strong building； and
force a passage in。 At last； they cleft their way among the mob
about the door； though many men； a dozen times their match； had
tried in vain to do so； and were seen； in—yes； in—the fire； striving
to prize it down； with crowbars。
Nor were they alone affected by the outcry from within the
prison。 The women who were looking on； shrieked loudly； beat
their hands together； stopped their ears； and many fainted： the
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men who were not near the walls and active in the siege； rather
than do nothing； tore up the pavement of the street； and did so
with a haste and fury they could not have surpassed if that had
been the jail； and they were near their object。 Not one living
creature in the throng was for an instant still。 The whole great
mass were mad。
A shout！ Another！ Another yet； though few knew why； or what
it meant。 But those around the gate had seen it slowly yield； and
drop from its topmost hinge。 It hung on that side by but one； but it
was upright still； because of the bar； and its having sunk； of its
own weight； into the heap of ashes at its foot。 There was now a gap
at the top of the doorway； through which could be descried a
gloomy passage； cavernous and dark。 Pile up the fire！
It burnt fiercely。 The door was red…hot； and the gap wider。 They
vainly tried to shield their faces with their hands； and standing as
if in readiness for a spring； watched the place。 Dark figures； some
crawling on their hands and knees； some carried in the arms of
others； were seen to pass along the roof。 It was plain the jail could
hold out no longer。 The keeper； and his officers； and their wives
and children； were escaping。 Pile up the fire！
The door sank down again： it settled deeper in the cinders—
tottered—yielded—was down！
As they shouted again； they fell back； for a moment； and left a
clear space about the fire that lay between them and the jail entry。
Hugh leapt upon the blazing heap； and scattering a train of sparks
into the air； and making the dark lobby glitter with those that
hung upon his dress； dashed into the jail。
The hangman followed。 And then so many rushed upon their
track； that the fire got trodden down and thinly strewn about the
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street； but there was no need of it now； for； inside and out； the
prison was in flames。
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Chapter 65
uring the whole course of the terrible scene which was
now at its height； one man in the jail suffered a degree of
D
fear and mental torment which had no parallel in the
endurance； even of those who lay under sentence of death。
When the rioters first assembled before the building； the
murderer was roused from sleep—if such slumbers as his may
have that blessed name—by the roar of voices； and the struggling
of a great crowd。 He started up as these sounds met his ear； and；
sitting on his bedstead； listened。
After a short interval of silence the noise burst out again。 Still
listening attentively； he made out； in course of time； that the jail
was besieged by a furious multitude。 His guilty conscience
instantly arrayed these men against himself； and brought the fear
upon him that he would be singled out； and torn to pieces。
Once impressed with the terror of this conceit； everything
tended to confirm and strengthen it。 His double crime； the
circumstances under which it had been committed； the length of
time that had elapsed； and its discovery in spite of all； made him；
as it were； the visible object of the Almighty’s wrath。 In all the
crime and vice and moral gloom of the great pest…house of the
capital； he stood alone； marked and singled out by his great guilt； a
Lucifer among the devils。 The other prisoners were a host； hiding
and sheltering each other—a crowd like that without the walls。 He
was one man against the whole united concourse； a single；
solitary； lonely man； from whom the very captives in the jail fell off
and shrunk appalled。
It might be that the intelligence of his capture having been
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bruited abroad； they had come there purposely to drag him out
and kill him in the street； or it might be that they were the rioters；
and； in pursuance of an old design； had come to sack the prison。
But in either case he had no belief or hope that they would spare
him。 Every shout they raised； and every sound they made； was a
blow upon his heart。 As the attack went on； he grew more wild and
frantic in his terror： tried to pull away the bars that guarded the
chimney and prevented him from climbing up： called loudly on the
turnkeys to cluster round the cell and save him from the fury of
the rabble； or put him in some dungeon underground； no matter
of what depth； how dark it was； or loathsome； or beset with rats
and creeping things； so that it hid him and was hard to find。
But no one came； or answered him。 Fearful； even while he cried
to them； of attracting attention； he was silent。 By and bye； he saw；
as he looked from his grated window； a strange glimmering on the
stone walls and pavement of the yard。 It was feeble at first； and
came and went； as though some officers with torches were passing
to and fro upon the roof of the prison。 Soon it reddened； and
lighted brands came whirling dow