“What do you want with him?” cried Millicent again.
“We want him to give oop the money he’s stole, and the keys o’ bank. Stand aside wi’ you. Hev him down.”
There was a rush, a struggle, and Millicent and her shrieking child were dragged down roughly, but good-humouredly, by the crowd that filled the hall, while others kept forcing their way in. As for Thisbe, as she fought and struck out bravely, her hands were pinioned behind her, and the group were held in a corner of the hall, while with a shout the mob rushed upstairs.
“Here, let go,” panted Thisbe to the men who held her. “I won’t do so any more. Let me take the bairn.”
The men loosed her at once, and they formed a ring about their prisoners.
“Let me have her, Miss Milly,” she whispered, and she took Julie in her arms, while Millicent, freed from this charge, made an effort to get to the stairs.
“Nay, nay, missus. Thou’rt better down here,” said one of her gaolers roughly; and the trembling woman was forced to stay, but only to keep imploring the men to let her pass.
Meanwhile the mob were running from room to room without success; and at each shout of disappointment a throb of hope and joy made Millicent’s heart leap.
She exchanged glances with Thisbe.
“He has escaped,” she whispered.