an instant.

Then he and Hugh turned and fled, the crowd opening and closing so
quickly that there was no clue to the course they had taken.

_III.--The Storming of Newgate_

For several days London was in the hands of the rioters. Catholic
chapels were burned, the private residences of Catholics were sacked.
From the moment of the first outbreak at Westminster every symptom of
order vanished. Fifty resolute men might have turned the rioters; a
single company of soldiers could have scattered them like dust; but no
man interposed, no authority restrained them.

But Barnaby, bold Barnaby, had been taken. Left behind at the resort of
the rioters by Hugh, who led a body of men to Chigwell, he had been
captured by the soldiers, a proclamation of the Privy Council having at
last encouraged the magistrates to set the military in motion for the
arrest of certain ringleaders.

He was placed in Newgate and heavily ironed, and presently Grip, with
drooping head and plumes rough and tumbled, was thrust into his cell.

Another man was also taken and placed in Newgate on that day, and
presently he and Barnaby stood staring at each other, face to face.
Suddenly Barnaby laid hands upon him, and cried, "Ah, I know! You are
the robber!"

The other struggled with him silently, but finding the young man too
strong for him, raised his eyes and said, "I am your father."

Barnaby released his hold, fell back, and looked at him aghast. Then he
sprang towards him, put his arms about his neck, and pressed his head
against his cheek. He never learnt that his father, supposed to have
been murdered, was himself a murderer. This was the widow's dreadful
secret.

And now Hugh, with a huge army, was at the gates of Newgate, bent on
rescue. He had returned, to find Barnaby taken, and at once announced
that the prison must be stormed. In vain the military commanders tried
to rouse the magistrates, and in particular the Lord Mayor; no orders
were given, and the soldiers could do nothing within the precincts of
the city without the warrant of the civil authorities.

In a dense mass the rioters halted before the prison-gate. All those who
had already been conspicuous were there, and others who had friends or
relatives within the jail hastened to the attack.

Hugh had brought, by force, old Gabriel Varden to pick the lock of the
great door, but this the sturdy locksmith resolutely refused to do.

"You have got some friends of ours in your