The policeman offered to conduct her out of the crowd, but she would not listen to him. She went on abusing the whole force in general and the luckless constable in particular.
This little incident seemed to be interesting to the multitude, who pushed and shoved to their hearts’ content.
It is impossible to say how long this contest might have lasted had not several persons cried out that they had been robbed, and called out to the police. The old woman declared that she had had her pockets picked.
Three policemen now charged the crowd and knocked down an old man and two boys who had done nothing.
After which they clumsily noted down the depositions of the plundered ones in their pocket-books, with looks of solemn authority and words of the obscurest promise.
Half-an-hour passed, and the two crowds ceased their contest.
Mr. Wrench and his two companions, who had become hemmed in, were now enabled to make their escape; they had been borne along by crowd No. 1, and during the rush they had no means of extricating themselves.
When, however, they got clear of the mob of malcontents, they passed out of the fair with all convenient speed.
At some short distance they discovered a small tavern, bearing the sign of the “Lord Cornwallis.”
They made for this, to partake of some refreshment.