He pitches over the
pore girl, but he does worse afterwards. He sets a tale a-goin' as
she'd disgraced herself, as she wasn't fit to be a honest man's
wife. An' it was all a damned lie, as lots of us knows. Now what
d'ye think o' that! This is a friend o' the People, this is! This is
the man as 'as your interests at 'art, mates! If he'll do a thing
like that, won't he rob you of your savin's?'
As soon as he knew what the man was about to speak of, Mutimer felt
the blood rush back upon his heart. It was as when a criminal hears
delivered against him a damning item of evidence. He knew that he
was pale, that every feature declared his consciousness of guilt. In
vain he tried to face the mob and smile contemptuously. His eyes
fell; he stood without the power of speech.
The yell was repeated, and prolonged, owing to another cause than
the accusation just heard. When the accuser was borne forwards to
the cart, a rumour spread among those more remote that an attack was
being made on Mutimer and his friends. The rumour reached that part
of the Green where Redgrave was then haranguing. At once the
listeners faced about in the direction of the supposed conflict.
Redgrave himself leaped down, and called upon all supporters of
Mutimer to follow him. It was the crash between two crowds which led
to the prolonging of the yell.
Pages:
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786