Thus placed, he bowed right and left, in acknowledgement of the cheers of the assemblage.
Not wishing to take a prominent part in these proceedings, Atherton had kept aloof, but he now came up to Syddall, and shaking hands with him, told him in a whisper that he might expect to see him at night.
The brave little Jacobite barber was then borne off in triumph, surrounded by his friends—a tall man marching before him carrying the white flag.
The procession took its way up the lane to Deansgate, along which thoroughfare it slowly moved, its numbers continually increasing as it went on, while the windows of the houses were thronged with spectators.
Thus triumphantly was Tom conveyed to his dwelling. Throughout the whole route no molestation was offered him—the magistrates prudently abstaining from further interference.
Before quitting him, the crowd promised to come to his succour should any attempt be made to arrest him.
Atherton did not join the procession, but took a totally different route.
Leaving the boat with the wharf-master, who volunteered to take care of it, he caused himself to be ferried across the river, and soon afterwards entered a path leading across the fields in the direction of Salford.
He walked along very slowly, being anxious to hold a little self-communion; and stopped now and then to give free scope to his reflections.