If he had been stunned and shocked before, his horror wasincreased a thousandfold when he got into this vortex of the riot,and not being an actor in the terrible spectacle, had it all beforehis eyes. But there, in the midst, towering above them all, closebefore the house they were attacking now, was Hugh on horseback,calling to the rest!
Sickened by the sights surrounding him on every side, and by theheat and roar, and crash, he forced his way among the crowd (wheremany recognised him, and with shouts pressed back to let him pass),and in time was nearly up with Hugh, who was savagely threatening some one, but whom or what he said, he could not, in the greatconfusion, understand. At that moment the crowd forced their wayinto the house, and Hugh--it was impossible to see by what means,in such a concourse--fell headlong down.
Barnaby was beside him when he staggered to his feet. It was wellhe made him hear his voice, or Hugh, with his uplifted axe, wouldhave cleft his skull in twain.
"Barnaby--you! Whose hand was that, that struck me down?"
"Not mine."
"Whose!--I say, whose!" he cried, reeling back, and looking wildlyround. "What are you doing? Where is he? Show me!"
"You are hurt," said Barnaby--as indeed he was, in the head, bothby the blow he had received, and by his horse"s hoof. "Come awaywith me."
As he spoke, he took the horse"s bridle in his hand, turned him,and dragged Hugh several paces. This brought them out of thecrowd, which was pouring from the street into the vintner"s cellars.
"Where"s--where"s Dennis?" said Hugh, coming to a stop, andchecking Barnaby with his strong arm. "Where has he been all day?
What did he mean by leaving me as he did, in the jail, last night?
Tell me, you--d"ye hear!"
With a flourish of his dangerous weapon, he fell down upon theground like a log. After a minute, though already frantic withdrinking and with the wound in his head, he crawled to a stream ofburning spirit which was pouring down the kennel, and began todrink at it as if it were a brook of water.
Barnaby drew him away, and forced him to rise. Though he couldneither stand nor walk, he involuntarily staggered to his horse,climbed upon his back, and clung there. After vainly attempting todivest the animal of his clanking trappings, Barnaby sprung upbehind him, snatched the bridle, turned into Leather Lane, whichwas close at hand, and urged the frightened horse into a heavytrot.
He looked back, once, before he left the street; and looked upon asight not easily to be erased, even from his remembrance, so long as he had life.
The vintner"s house with a half-a-dozen others near at hand, wasone great, glowing blaze. All night, no one had essayed to quenchthe flames, or stop their progress; but now a body of soldierswere actively engaged in pulling down two old wooden houses, whichwere every moment in danger of taking fire, and which couldscarcely fail, if they were left to burn, to extend theconflagration immensely. The tumbling down of nodding walls andheavy blocks of wood, the hooting and the execrations of the crowd,the distant firing of other military detachments, the distractedlooks and cries of those whose habitations were in danger, thehurrying to and fro of frightened people with their goods; thereflections in every quarter of the sky, of deep, red, soaringflames, as though the last day had come and the whole universe wereburning; the dust, and smoke, and drift of fiery particles,scorching and kindling all it fell upon; the hot unwholesomevapour, the blight on everything; the stars, and moon, and verysky, obliterated;--made up such a sum of dreariness and ruin, thatit seemed as if the face of Heaven were blotted out, and night, inits rest and quiet, and softened light, never could look upon theearth again.
But there was a worse spectacle than this--worse by far than fireand smoke, or even the rabble"s unappeasable and maniac rage. Thegutters of the street, and every crack and fissure in the stones,ran with scorching spirit, which being dammed up by busy hands,overflowed the road and pavement, and formed a great pool, intowhich the people dropped down dead by dozens. They lay in heapsall round this fearful pond, husbands and wives, fathers and sons,mothers and daughters, women with children in their arms and babiesat their breasts, and drank until they died. While some stoopedwith their lips to the brink and never raised their heads again,others sprang up from their fiery draught, and danced, half in amad triumph, and half in the agony of suffocation, until they fell,and steeped their corpses in the liquor that had killed them. Norwas even this the worst or most appalling kind of death thathappened on this fatal night. From the burning cellars, where theydrank out of hats, pails, buckets, tubs, and shoes, some men weredrawn, alive, but all alight from head to foot; who, in theirunendurable anguish and suffering, making for anything that had thelook of water, rolled, hissing, in this hideous lake, and splashedup liquid fire which lapped in all it met with as it ran along thesurface, and neither spared the living nor the dead. On this lastnight of the great riots--for the last night it was--the wretchedvictims of a senseless outcry, became themselves the dust and ashes of the flames they had kindled, and strewed the public streets ofLondon.
With all he saw in this last glance fixed indelibly upon his mind,Barnaby hurried from the city which enclosed such horrors; andholding down his head that he might not even see the glare of thefires upon the quiet landscape, was soon in the still countryroads.
He stopped at about half-a-mile from the shed where his fatherlay, and with some difficulty making Hugh sensible that he mustdismount, sunk the horse"s furniture in a pool of stagnant water,and turned the animal loose. That done, he supported his companionas well as he could, and led him slowly forward.