CHAPTER THREE.
GETTING INTO HOT WATER.
The excitement of his companion was now communicated to Frank Gowan, andas fast as they could walk they hurried on toward the gate at the cornerof the Park, passing knot after knot of people talking about the scenewhich had taken place. But the boy did not forget to look eagerly inthe direction of the row of goodly houses standing back behind thetrees, and facing on to the Park, before they turned out through thegate and found themselves in the tail of the crowd hurrying on towardPalace Ward.
The crowd grew more dense till they reached the end of the street withthe open space in front, where it was impossible to go farther.
"Let's try and get round," whispered Andrew. "Do you hear? They'refighting!"
Being young and active, they soon managed to get round to where theyanticipated obtaining a view of the proceedings; but there was nothingto see but a surging crowd, for the most part well-dressed, but leavenedby the mob, and this was broken up from time to time by the passing ofcarriages whose horses were forced to walk.
"Oh, if we could only get close up!" said Andrew impatiently. "Hark atthe shouting and yelling. They are fighting with the soldiers now."
"No, no, not yet, youngster," said a well-dressed man close by them;"it's only men's canes and fists. The Whigs are getting the worst ofit; so you two boys had better go while your heads are whole."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I know a Whig when I see one, my lad."
"Do you mean that as an insult, sir?" said Andrew haughtily.
"No," said the gentleman, smiling; "only as a bit of advice."
"Because if you did--" said Andrew, laying his hand upon his sword.
"You would send your friends to me, boy, and then I should not fight.Nonsense, my lad. There, off with your friend while your shoes aregood, and don't raise your voice, or some one will find out that you arefrom the Palace. Then the news would run like wild fire, and you oughtto know by this time what a cowardly London mob will do. They nearlytore Sir Marland Granthill out of his carriage just now. There, if I amnot on your side, I speak as a friend."
Before Andrew could make any retort, and just as Frank was tugging athis arm to get him away, they were separated from the stranger by a rushin the crowd, which forced them up into a doorway, from whose step theysaw, one after the other, no less than six men borne along insensibleand bleeding from wounds upon the head, while their clothes were nearlytorn from their backs.
Then the shouting and yelling began to subside, and the two lads wereforced to go with the stream, till an opportunity came for them to divedown a side street and reach the river stairs, where they took a wherryand were rowed east.
"I should like to know who that man was," said Andrew, after a longsilence, during which they went gliding along with the falling tide.
"He spoke very well," said Frank.
"Yes; but he took me for a Whig," said the youth indignantly.
"But, I say, what was it all about?"
"Oh, you'll soon learn that," replied Andrew.
"Is there often fighting like this going on in the streets?"
"Every day somewhere."
"But why?" said Frank anxiously.
"Surely you know! Because the Whigs have brought in a king that thepeople do not like. There, don't talk about it any more now. I want tosit still and think."
Frank respected his companion's silence, and thankful at having escapedfrom the heat and pressure of the crowd, he sat gazing at the movingpanorama on either side, enjoying the novelty of his position.
His musings upon what he saw were interrupted by his companion, whorepeated his former words suddenly in a low, thoughtful voice, but onefull of annoyance, as if the words were rankling in his memory.
"He took me for a Whig."
Then, catching sight of his companion's eyes watching him wonderingly:
"What say?" he cried. "Did you speak?"
"No; you did."
"No, I said nothing."
Frank smiled.
"Yes, you said again that the man in the crowd took you for a Whig."
"Did I? Well, I was thinking aloud then."
"Where to, sir?" asked the waterman, as he sent the boat gliding alongpast the gardens of the Temple, "London Bridge?"
"No; Blackfriars."
A few minutes later they landed at the stairs, and, apparently quite athome in the place, Andrew led his companion in and out among thegloomy-looking streets and lanes of the old Alsatian district, and outinto the continuation of what might very well be called High Street,London.
"Here we are," he said, as he directed their steps toward one of thenarrow courts which ran north from the main thoroughfare; but uponreaching the end, where a knot of excitable-looking men were talkingloudly upon some subject which evidently interested them deeply, one ofthe loudest speakers suddenly ceased his harangue and directed theattention of his companions to the two lads. The result was that allfaced round and stared at them offensively, bringing the colour intoAndrew's cheeks and making Frank feel uncomfortable.
"Let's go straight on," said the former; and drawing himself up, hewalked straight toward the group, which extended right across the roughpavement and into the road, so that any one who wanted to pass alongwould be compelled to make a circuit by stepping down first into thedirty gutter.
"Keep close to me; don't give way," whispered Andrew; and he kept onright in the face of the staring little crowd, till he was brought to astandstill, not a man offering to budge.
"Will you allow us to pass?" said Andrew haughtily.
"Plenty o' room in the road," shouted the man who had been speaking."Aren't you going up the court?"
"I do not choose to go into the muddy road, sir, because you and yourparty take upon yourselves to block up the public way," retorted Andrew,giving the man so fierce a look that for a moment or two he was somewhatabashed, and his companions, influenced by the stronger will of one whowas in the right, began to make way for the well-dressed pair.
But the first man found his tongue directly.
"Here, clear the road!" he cried banteringly. "Make way, you dirtyblackguards, for my lords. Lie down, some of you, and let 'em walk overyou. Lost your way, my lords? Why didn't you come in your carriages,with horse soldiers before and behind? But it's no use to-day; the LordMayor's gone out to dinner with his wife."
A roar of coarse laughter followed this sally, which increased asanother man shouted in imitation of military commands:
"Heads up; draw skewers; right forward; ma-rr-rr-ch!"
"Scum!" said Andrew contemptuously, as they left the little crowdbehind.
"Is the city always like this?" said Frank, whose face now was as red ashis companion's.
"Yes, now," said Andrew bitterly. "That's a specimen of a Whig mob."
"Nonsense!" cried Frank, rather warmly; "don't be so prejudiced. Howcan you tell that they are Whigs?"
"By the way in which they jumped at a chance to insult gentlemen. Horsesoldiers indeed! Draw swords! Oh! I should like to be at the head ofa troop, to give the order and chase the dirty ruffians out of thestreet, and make my men thrash them with the flats of their blades tillthey went down on their knees in the mud and howled for mercy."
"What a furious fire-eater you are, Drew," cried Frank, recovering hisequanimity. "We ought to have stepped out into the road."
"For a set of jeering ruffians like that!" cried Andrew. "No. Theyhate to see a gentleman go by. London is getting disgraceful now."
"Never mind. There, I've seen enough of it. Let's get down to theriver again, and take a boat; it's much pleasanter than being in thisnoisy, crowded place."
"Not yet. We've a better right here than a mob like that. It would berunning away."
"Why, how would they know?" said Frank merrily.
"I should know, and feel as if I had disgraced myself," replied Andrewhaughtily. "Besides, I wanted to see a gentleman."
"What,
up that court?" said Frank, looking curiously at his companion.
"Yes, a gentleman up that court. There are plenty of gentlemen, andnoblemen, too, driven nowadays to live in worse places than that, andhide about in holes and corners."
"Oh, I say, don't be so cross because a lot of idlers would not makeway."
"It isn't that," said the youth. "It half maddens me sometimes."
"Then don't think about it. You are always talking about politics. Idon't understand much about them, but it seems to me that if people obeythe laws they can live happily enough."
"Poor Frank!" said Andrew mockingly. "But never mind. You have goteverything to learn. This way."
The boy was thinking that he did not want to learn "everything" if thestudies were to make him as irritable and peppery as his companion, whenthe imperative order to turn came upon him by surprise, and he followedAndrew, who had suddenly turned into a narrower court than the one forwhich he had first made, and out of the roaring street into comparativesilence.
"Where are you going?"
"This way. We can get round by the back. I want to see my friend."
The court was only a few feet wide, and the occupants of the opposinghouses could easily have carried on a conversation from the openwindows; but these occupants seemed to be too busy, for in the glimpseshe obtained as they passed, Frank caught sight of workmen in paper capsand dirty white aprons, and boys hurrying to and fro, carrying packetsof paper.
But he had not much opportunity for noticing what business was beingcarried on, for they soon reached the end of the court, where a freshgroup of men were standing listening to a speaker holding forth from anopen window, and the lad fully expected a similar scene to that whichhad taken place in the main street.
But people made way here, and Andrew, apparently quite at home, turnedto the left along a very dirty lane, plunged into another court, and inand out two or three times in silence, along what seemed to the boyfresh from quaint old Winchester a perfect maze.
"I say, Drew," he said at last, "you must have been here before."
"I? Oh yes! I know London pretty well. Now down here."
He plunged sharply now round a corner and into the wide court he had atfirst made for, but now from its northern end. So quick and sudden wasthe movement made that the two lads, before they could realise the fact,found themselves in another crowd, which filled this court from end toend. The people composing it were principally of the rough class theyhad seen grouped at the lower part, but fully half were workmen in theirshirt sleeves, many of them with faces blackened by their occupation,while a smaller portion was well-dressed, and kept on moving about andtalking earnestly to the people around.
"Too late," said Andrew, half to himself.
"Yes; we shall have to go round and reach the street farther along,"said Frank quietly. "We don't want to push through there."
"But it's here I want to see my friend."
"Does he live in this place?"
"No; but he is sure to be there--in that house."
The lad nodded at a goodly sized mansion about half-way down the court;and even from where they stood they could make out that the place wascrowded, and that something exciting was going on, the crowd in thecourt outside being evidently listeners, trying to catch what was saidwithin, the murmurs of which reached the two lads' ears.
All at once there was a loud outburst of cheering, shouting, andclapping of hands, as if at the conclusion of a speech; and this wasresponded to by a roar of yells, hoots, and derisive cries from thecourt.
"Oh! too late--too late," muttered Andrew. "Silence, you miserablecrew!"
But where heard his words passed unnoticed, those around evidentlytaking them as being addressed to the people in the great tavern.
"Let's get away--quickly, while we can," said Frank, with his lips closeto his companion's ear; but the lad shook him off angrily, and thenuttered a cry of rage, for at that moment there was a loud crash andsplintering of glass, the mob in the court, evidently under thedirection of the well-dressed men, hurling stones, decayed vegetables,and rubbish of all kinds in at the windows of the tavern.
This was responded to by shouts of defiance and a rain of pots, glasses,and pails of water; and even the pails themselves were hurled down uponthe heads of the people in the court, while a long oaken settle whichcame clattering down fell crosswise, the end coming within a few inchesof a man's head.
"Oh, do let's go!" Frank very naturally said, gripping Andrew's armhard.
But the lad seemed to have suddenly gone crazy with excitement, shoutingand gesticulating with the rest, directing his words, which sounded likemenaces, at the people crowding at the window of the house.
At this the mob cheered, and, as if in answer to his orders, made a rushfor the door, surging in, armed for the most part with sticks, and as ifto carry the place by assault.
"I can't go and leave him," thought Frank; and directly after--as helooked up the court toward the end by which they had entered, and downfrom which they had been borne until they were nearly opposite thehouse--"if I wanted to," he muttered, as he saw how they were wedged inand swayed here and there by the crowd.
The noise increased, the crowd beginning to cheer loudly, as crowds willwhen excited by the chance to commit mischief, and Frank remainedignorant of the reasons which impelled them on, as he watched theexciting scene. The sound of blows, yells of defiance, and the angry,increasing roar of those contending within the house, set his heartbeating wildly. For a few minutes, when he found himself shut in by thepeople around, a feeling of dread came over him, mingled with despair athis helplessness, and he would have given anything to be able to escapefrom his position; but as he saw man after man come stumbling outbruised and bleeding, and heard the cries of rage uttered by those whohemmed him in, the feeling of fear gave place to indignation, and thiswas soon followed by an angry desire to help those who, amidst thecheers of their fellows, pressed forward to take the place of those whowere beaten back.
It was at this moment that he saw two well-dressed men waving swordsabove their heads, and, white now with rage, Andrew turned to him.
"The cowards--the dogs!" he whispered. "Frank lad, you will be manenough to help?"
"Yes, yes," panted the boy huskily, with a sensation akin to that whichhe had felt when hurt in his last school fight, when, reckless frompain, he had dashed at a tyrannical fellow-pupil who was planting blowafter blow upon him almost as he pleased.
"Draw your sword then, and follow me."
Frank made a struggle to wrench himself free, but it was in vain.
"I can't!" he panted. "My arms are pinned down to my side."
"So are mine," groaned Andrew. "I can hardly breathe."
A furious yell of rage arose from fifty throats, and the two lads sawthe attacking party come tumbling one over the other out of the tavern,driven back by the defenders, who charged bravely out after them, armedwith stick and sword; and almost before the two lads could realise theirposition they found themselves being carried along in the human streamwell out of reach of the blows being showered down by the rallying partyfrom the house, who literally drove their enemies before them, at firststep by step, striking back in their own defence, rendered desperate bytheir position, then giving up and seeking refuge in flight, when with arush their companions gave way more and more in front.
For a few minutes the heat and pressure were suffocating, and as Frankand his companion were twisted round and borne backward, the former felta peculiar sensation of giddy faintness, the walls swam round, theshouting sounded distant, and he was only half-conscious when, incompany with those around, he was shot out of the narrow entrance of thecourt; and then the terrible pressure ceased.