the rector of Little Treby, saying that there was
evidently a Radical animus in the mob, and that Mr Transome's party should hold
themselves peculiarly responsible. Where was Mr Jermyn?
    Mr Lingon replied that he was going himself out towards Duffield to see
after the soldiers. As for Jermyn, he was not that attorney's sponsor: he
believed that Jermyn was gone away somewhere on business - to fetch voters.
    A serious effort was now being made by all the civil force at command. The
December day would soon be passing into evening, and all disorder would be
aggravated by obscurity. The horrors of fire were as likely to happen as any
minor evil. The constables, as many of them as could do so, armed themselves
with carbines and sabres; all the respectable inhabitants who had any courage
prepared themselves to struggle for order; and many felt with Mr Wace and Mr
Tiliot that the nearest duty was to defend the breweries and the spirit and wine
vaults, where the property was of a sort at once most likely to be threatened
and most dangerous in its effects. The rector, with fine determination, got on
horseback again, as the best mode of leading the constables, who could only act
efficiently in a close body. By his direction the column of armed men avoided
the main street, and made their way along a back road, that they might occupy
the two chief lanes leading to the wine-vaults and the brewery, and bear down on
the crowd from these openings, which it was especially desirable to guard.
    Meanwhile Felix Holt had been hotly occupied in King Street. After the first
window-smashing at the Seven Stars, there was a sufficient reason for damaging
that inn to the utmost. The destructive spirit tends towards completeness; and
any object once maimed or otherwise injured, is as readily doomed by unreasoning
men as by unreasoning boys. Also the Seven Stars sheltered Spratt; and to some
Sproxton men in front of that inn it was exasperating that Spratt should be safe
and sound on a day when blows were going, and justice might be rendered. And
again, there was the general desirableness of being inside a public-house.
    Felix had at last been willingly urged on to this spot. Hitherto swayed by
the crowd, he had been able to do nothing but defend himself and keep on his
legs; but he foresaw that the people would burst into the inn; he heard cries of
»Spratt!« »Fetch him out!« »We'll pitch him out!« »Pummel him!« It was not
unlikely that lives might be