“One of the prisoners has been carried off, Frank,” whispered Captain Murray then; and in a weak voice the lad said:
“My father?”
“No, my lad; he is in the second carriage now.” The next minute orders were given, and the dragoons advanced to clear the way for the carriages, now surrounded by the bristling bayonets of half a regiment of foot guards, who refused passage to Captain Murray and the boy, so that they had to be content with riding in front of the rear guard of dragoons.
And now once more the yelling of the crowd arose from the direction of Cheapside, where the mob had again gathered strongly; but no mercy was shown. The heavy mass of dragoons that formed the advance guard had received their orders to clear the way, and, finding a determined opposition, the trumpet rang out once more, and they advanced at a gallop, trampling down all before them for a few minutes till the crowd broke and ran. The way was clear enough as at a double the Grenadiers came up, and passed round the angle at Newgate Street, the escort driving the mob before it; and the wide space at the west end of the Old Bailey was reached.
This was packed with troops, who had preserved an opening for the carriages, and into it the Grenadiers marched, and formed up round the massive prison gates. And now Frank made an effort, with Captain Murray’s assistance, to get to the carriage door again for one short farewell. But in the hurry and excitement of the time, the pass from the Palace and the military uniform the captain wore went for nothing, the dense mass of Grenadiers stood firm, and very few minutes sufficed for the prisoners to be passed in and the gates closed. A strong force of infantry was stationed within and without, for the authorities dreaded an attack upon the prison; and the regiment of dragoons that had been detailed to meet the escort and guard the road to Islington patrolled the approaches, while the rest marched off to their quarters amidst the hooting and yelling of the crowd.
Captain Murray turned off at once into a side street, and rode beside Frank for some distance, respecting in silence his young companion’s grief, hardly a word passing till they reached the Guards’ stables and left their horses, which looked, by the light of the men’s lanthorns, as if they had passed through a river. Then the pair hurried across the Park, feeling half-stunned by their adventure, Frank so entirely, exhausted that he would have gladly availed himself of his friend’s arm.
But he fought hard, and just as the clock was striking twelve he made his way to his mother’s room, wondering whether he was to be called upon to face some fresh grief. But he found Lady Gowan lying awake, and ready to stretch out her hands to him.
“You saw him, Frank?” she whispered; and the disorder of his appearance escaped her notice.
“Yes, mother; I rode beside him, and he spoke to me.”
“Yes, yes; what did he say?” cried Lady Gowan.