“I half suspect the reason of this mystery about Gleeson,” said the Knight, who stood musing deeply on the event; “a few words Drogheda let fall yesterday, going in to dinner,—some unfortunate speculation in South America: this may require his keeping out of the way for a little time. But why not say so, manfully?—I'm sure I'm ready to assist him.”
“Come along, Darcy, we must walk; they say no carriage can get through the mob.” And, with these words, he took the Knight's arm and sallied forth, while Sandy followed, conveying a large cloth cloak over his arm, which only partially concealed an ominous-looking box of mahogany wood, strapped with brass.
A crowd awaited them as they reached the street, by which they were escorted through the denser mass that thronged the great thoroughfare, the mere mention of their names being sufficient to force a passage even where the mob stood thickest.
The space in front of the Parliament House and before the College was filled with soldiers; while patrols of cavalry traversed every avenue leading to it, for information had reached the Government that violence might be apprehended from a mob whose force and numbers were alluded to by members within the House in terms meant to intimidate, while the presence of the soldiery was retorted by the Opposition as a measure of tyranny and oppression of the Castle party. Brushing somewhat roughly through the armed line, Daly, with the Knight beside him, entered the space, and was passing onward, when a bustle and a confused uproar behind him arrested his steps. Believing that it might be to Sandy's progress some objection was offered, Daly wheeled round, when he saw two policemen in the act of dragging away a boy, whose loud cries for help from the mob were incessant, while he mingled the name of Mr. Daly through his entreaties.
“What is it?” said Daly. “Does the fellow want me?”
“Never mind him,” said Darcy; “the boy has caught up your name, and that's all.”
But the urchin struggled and kicked with all his might; and, although overpowered by superior strength, gave battle to the last, screaming at the top of his voice, “One word with Mr. Daly,—just one word!”
Bagenal Daly turned back, and, approaching the scene of contest, said, “Have you anything to say to me? I am Mr. Daly.”