“Lean on me,” she cried proudly. “Antony, beat a way for us through these curs.”
I took Hallett’s other arm, and as we stepped forward, Jem Smith uttered a loud “Yah!” but it seemed as if it was broken before it left his lips, and he went staggering back from a tremendous blow right in the teeth, delivered by Tom Girtley.
Then there was an interlude, for some one else forced his way to the front.
“Miss Carr! great heavens! what is all this?” he cried. “Give me your hand. This is no place for you. What does this outrage mean? Quick! let me help you. This is horrible.”
“Stand back, sir!”
“You are excited,” he cried. “You don’t know me. I see now; there is your carriage. Stand away, you ruffians. How thankful I am that I was near! Take this man away. Is he drunk?”
As he spoke, John Lister, with a look of supreme disgust, pushed poor fainting Hallett back, and tried to draw Miss Carr out of the crowd.
“Coward! Villain! This is your work!” she cried in a low, strange voice; and as he tried to draw her away, she sharply thrust him from her.
The crowd uttered a cry of excitement as they witnessed the act; and, stung almost to madness with rage and mortification, Lister turned upon me.
But I again found a good man at my back, for, boiling with rage, Tom Girtley struck at him fiercely and kept him off, while in the midst of the noise, pushing, and hustling of the crowd, a confusion that seemed to me now as unreal as some dream, we got Hallett along towards the carriage, he, poor fellow, seeming ready to sink at every step, while the true-hearted woman at his side clung to him and passed one arm round him to help him.