He wandered into one of the streets by the
side of the river, and was pacing in a thoughtful manner up and
down, thinking of things that had happened long ago, when he heard a
servant-man at an upper window call to another on the opposite side of
the street, that the mob were setting fire to Newgate.
To Newgate! where that man was! His failing strength returned, his
energies came back with tenfold vigour, on the instant. If it were
possible--if they should set the murderer free--was he, after all he had
undergone, to die with the suspicion of having slain his own brother,
dimly gathering about him--
He had no consciousness of going to the jail; but there he stood, before
it. There was the crowd wedged and pressed together in a dense, dark,
moving mass; and there were the flames soaring up into the air. His head
turned round and round, lights flashed before his eyes, and he struggled
hard with two men.
'Nay, nay,' said one. 'Be more yourself, my good sir. We attract
attention here. Come away. What can you do among so many men?'
'The gentleman's always for doing something,' said the other, forcing
him along as he spoke. 'I like him for that. I do like him for that.
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