ut hesitation and regret, as they kept aloof in the moonlight and
glanced fearfully at the ghostly rider, who, with his head drooping on
his breast and his hat slouched down upon his brow, neither moved nor
spoke.

Finding it impossible to persuade them, and indeed hardly knowing how
to do so after what they had seen of the fury of the crowd, Mr Haredale
besought them that at least they would leave him free to act for
himself, and would suffer him to take the only chaise and pair of
horses that the place afforded. This was not acceded to without some
difficulty, but in the end they told him to do what he would, and go
away from them in heaven's name.

Leaving the sexton at the horse's bridle, he drew out the chaise
with his own hands, and would have harnessed the horses, but that the
post-boy of the village--a soft-hearted, good-for-nothing, vagabond kind
of fellow--was moved by his earnestness and passion, and, throwing down
a pitchfork with which he was armed, swore that the rioters might cut
him into mincemeat if they liked, but he would not stand by and see
an honest gentleman who had done no wrong, reduced to such extremity,
without doing what he could to help him. Mr Haredale shook him warmly
by the hand, and thanked him from his heart. In five minutes' time the
chaise was ready, and this good scapegrace in his saddle. The murderer
was put inside, the blinds were drawn up, the sexton took his seat upon
the bar, Mr Haredale mounted his horse and rode close beside the door;
and so they started in the dead of night, and in profound silence, for
London.

The consternation was so extreme that even the horses which had escaped
the flames at the Warren, could find no friends to shelter them. They
passed them on the road, browsing on the stunted grass; and the driver
told them, that the poor beasts had wandered to the village first, but
had been driven away, lest they should bring the vengeance of the crowd
on any of the inhabitants.

Nor was this feeling confined to such small places, where the people
were timid, ignorant, and unprotected. When they came near London they
met, in the grey light of morning, more than one poor Catholic family
who, terrified by the threats and warnings of their neighbours, were
quitting the city on foot, and who told them they could hire no cart or
horse for the removal of their goods, and had been compelled to leave
them behind, at the mercy of the crowd. Near Mile End they passed a
ho