But before long a curious change passed over the face of the London streets. A breath--a whisper--a fleeting rumour. Men's faces grew suddenly pale and grave. Women uttered sharp exclamations of astonishment and fear. People pressed together into knots, asking quick questions and awaiting the answers in breathless expectancy; and presently the whispers became changed into open cries and shouts. A smothered roar as of execration and menace ran through the streets, being caught up and passed from mouth to mouth till it was surging along like a great billow on the wide Atlantic sea.
"A Popish plot!"
"Down with the Papists!"
"Blow up the whole of the Parliament Houses--King, Lords, and Commons!"
"Heard ye ever the like before?"
"Taken in the very act--with the barrels of gunpowder laid ready, and the slow match in his hand!"
"A curse upon all such vile traitors!"
"A curse upon the Papists!"
"England will never know peace till she has destroyed them root and branch!"
"Down with the whole brood of them--the vile scum of a vile race!"