“Do you see? Do you see?” he cried brandishing his fist in Brereton’s face—it was Cooke. “You traitor! If the fire catches the fourth house on that side, it’ll get the shipping! The shipping, d’you hear, you Radical? Then the Lord knows what’ll escape? But, thank God, you’ll hang! You’ll—if it gets to the fourth house, I tell you, it’ll catch the rigging by the Great Crane! Are you going to move?”
Vaughan did not wait for Brereton’s answer. “We must charge, Colonel Brereton!” he cried, in a voice which burst the bonds of discipline, and showed that he was determined that others should burst them also. “Colonel Brereton,” he repeated, setting his horse in motion, “we must charge without a moment’s delay!”
“Wait!” Brereton answered hoarsely. “Wait! Let me——”
“We must charge!” Vaughan replied, his face pale, his mind made up. And turning in his saddle he waved his hand to the men. “Forward!” he cried, raising his voice to its utmost. “Trot! Charge, men, and charge home!”
He spurred his horse to the front, and the whole troop, some thirty strong, set in motion by the magic of his voice, followed him. Even Brereton, after a moment’s hesitation, fell in a length behind him. The horses broke into a trot, then into a canter. As they bore down along the south side upon the southwest corner, a roar of rage and alarm rose from the rioters collected there; and scores and hundreds fled, screaming, and sought safety to right and left.
Vaughan had time to turn to Brereton, and cry, “I beg your pardon, sir; I could not help it!” The next moment he and the leading troopers were upon the fleeing, dodging, ducking crowd; were upon them and among them. Half a dozen swords gleamed high and fell, the horses did the rest. The rabble, taken by surprise, made no resistance. In a trice the dragoons were through the mob, and the roadway showed clear behind them. Save where here and there a man rose slowly and limped away, leaving a track of blood at his heels.
“Steady! Steady!” Vaughan cried. “Halt! Halt! Right about!” and then, “Charge!”
He led the men back over the same ground, chasing from it such as had dared to return, or to gather upon the skirts of the troop. Then he led his men along the east side, clearing that also and driving the rioters in a panic into the side streets. Resistance worthy of the name there was none, until, having led the troop back across the open Square and cleared that of the skulkers, he came back again to the southwest corner. There the rabble, rallying from their surprise, had taken up a position in the forecourts of the houses, where they were protected by the railings. They met the soldiers with a volley of stones, and half a dozen pistol-shots. A horse fell, two or three of the men were hit; for an instant there was confusion. Then Vaughan spurred his horse into one of the forecourts, and, followed by half a dozen troopers, cleared it, and the next and the next; on which, volunteers who sprang up, as by magic, at the first act of authority, entered the houses, killed one rioter, flung out the rest, and extinguished the flames. Still the more determined of the rascals, seeing the small number against them, clung to the place and the forecourts; and, driven from one court, retreated to another, and still protected by the railings, kept the troopers at bay with missiles.
Vaughan, panting with his exertions, took in the position, and looked round for Brereton.
“We must send for the Fourteenth, sir!” he said. “We are not enough to do more than hold them in check.”