“I suppose he will be hanged?” said Martin sleepily.
“Certain sure. It will be a great show. I expect he’ll make a fine speech on the gallows.”
But Martin was already asleep.
When he awoke in the early morning he found that Gollop, in consultation with the watermen, had planned out his course of action. The vessel would be left in charge of the Customs officers, who would put a crew on board, and lodge the criminals, Slocum, Blackbeard, and Seymour, in jail; then the boarding party would return to the City, Gollop would report to his captain, and a posse of constables would no doubt be dispatched to convey the criminals to London for trial.
About half-past five Boulter’s wherry set off on its return journey to London. The party were well satisfied with the result of their expedition, but the pleasure of some of them was alloyed with anxiety. During the night the wind had fallen away; the air was still; and Gollop, equally with the Frenchman, was filled with foreboding as to the progress the Fire might have made during the twelve hours of his absence. Already, before his departure, the flames had worked back against the wind in the direction of the Tower, and now that there was not even the wind to check them, he was on tenterhooks lest they might have gained his house.
Mounseer, so calm and self-possessed during the scene in the round-house of the Merry Maid, was now a prey to nervous agitation, which increased minute by minute as the wherry neared its destination. He said nothing, but the twitching of his eyelids and the restless movements of his hands were clear signs of his perturbation of spirit. Martin wondered, for, like Susan Gollop, he had seen nothing of value in the old gentleman’s apartment, and such possessions as he had could be removed in a few minutes if the house were attacked by the Fire.
The watermen pulled in to the steps where Martin had first become suspicious of Slocum. There the party separated: Gollop to seek his captain, Hopton to return home, the watermen to resume their vocation; Martin and the Frenchman to regain their dwelling-house.
“If so be the house has caught, lad,” said Gollop at parting, “I trust to you to look after my Sue and the little one. I’ll come home the very first minute I can.”
Martin’s misgivings increased as he hurried with Mounseer through the streets.
“I’m sure that’s Clothworkers Hall in Mincing Lane,” he said, noticing a huge body of yellow flame rising high into the air some distance to the left.