--There are great people at the bottom of these
riots.--Oh dear me, what a thing it is to be a public character!--You
must look in again in the course of the day.--Would a javelin-man
do?--Or there's Philips the constable,--HE'S disengaged,--he's not very
old for a man at his time of life, except in his legs, and if you put
him up at a window he'd look quite young by candle-light, and might
frighten 'em very much.--Oh dear!--well!--we'll see about it.'
'Stop!' cried Mr Haredale, pressing the door open as the porter strove
to shut it, and speaking rapidly, 'My Lord Mayor, I beg you not to go
away. I have a man here, who committed a murder eight-and-twenty years
ago. Half-a-dozen words from me, on oath, will justify you in committing
him to prison for re-examination. I only seek, just now, to have him
consigned to a place of safety. The least delay may involve his being
rescued by the rioters.'
'Oh dear me!' cried the Lord Mayor. 'God bless my soul--and body--oh
Lor!--well I!--there are great people at the bottom of these riots, you
know.--You really mustn't.'
'My lord,' said Mr Haredale, 'the murdered gentleman was my brother; I
succeeded to his inheritance; there were not wanting slanderous tongues
at that time, to whisper that the guilt of this most foul and cruel deed
was mine--mine, who loved him, as he knows, in Heaven, dearly.
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