he vintner. 'Fifty thousand pounds will be
scattered in a minute. We must save ourselves. We can do no more, and
shall have reason to be thankful if we do as much.'

Their first impulse was, to clamber along the roofs of the houses, and,
knocking at some garret window for admission, pass down that way into
the street, and so escape. But another fierce cry from below, and a
general upturning of the faces of the crowd, apprised them that they
were discovered, and even that Mr Haredale was recognised; for Hugh,
seeing him plainly in the bright glare of the fire, which in that part
made it as light as day, called to him by his name, and swore to have
his life.

'Leave me here,' said Mr Haredale, 'and in Heaven's name, my good
friend, save yourself! Come on!' he muttered, as he turned towards Hugh
and faced him without any further effort at concealment: 'This roof is
high, and if we close, we will die together!'

'Madness,' said the honest vintner, pulling him back, 'sheer madness.
Hear reason, sir. My good sir, hear reason. I could never make myself
heard by knocking at a window now; and even if I could, no one would be
bold enough to connive at my escape. Through the cellars, there's a kind
of passage into the back street by which we roll casks in and out. We
shall have time to get down there before they can force an entry. Do
not delay an instant, but come with me--for both our sakes--for mine--my
dear good sir!'

As he spoke, and drew Mr Haredale back, they had both a glimpse of the
street. It was but a glimpse, but it showed them the crowd, gathering
and clustering round the house: some of the armed men pressing to the
front to break down the doors and windows, some bringing brands from
the nearest fire, some with lifted faces following their course upon the
roof and pointing them out to their companions: all raging and roaring
like the flames they lighted up. They saw some men thirsting for the
treasures of strong liquor which they knew were stored within; they saw
others, who had been wounded, sinking down into the opposite doorways
and dying, solitary wretches, in the midst of all the vast assemblage;
here a frightened woman trying to escape; and there a lost child; and
there a drunken ruffian, unconscious of the death-wound on his head,
raving and fighting to the last. All these things, and even such trivial
incidents as a man with his hat off, or turning round, or stooping down,
or shaking hands with another, t