ence. He "adjured the mob by those who
met at Runnymead to resist such an act of lawless power; applauded the
heaven-born suggestion of the drunkard; called upon them all to follow
his example; by Magna Charta every Englishman was entitled to stretch
himself at length in the mud when and where he would; and at the
Alderman's peril be it, if he should presume to drive over them."

Meantime the constables had seized the man, and tossed him into the
gutter. So far the system of vigour seemed to carry the day. But either
this act or the urgency of the time (the horses being now harnessed and
the postillions on the point of mounting) was the signal for the
universal explosion of the popular wrath. Stones, coals, brickbats,
whizzed on every side: the traces of the barouche were cut: the
constables were knocked down: those of them, who were seated in the
carriage, were collared and pulled out; excepting only Sampson who,
being a powerful and determined man, still kept his hold of Bertram:
and the Alderman, who was the main cause of the whole disturbance, was
happy to make a precipitate retreat into the inn; at an upper window of
which he soon appeared with the Riot Act in his hand.

At this crisis, however, from some indications which he observed below
of the state of temper in regard to himself just now prevailing amongst
the mob he thought it prudent to lay aside his first intentions; and,
putting the Riot Act into his pocket, he began to bow; most awkwardly
attempted the new part of gracious conciliator; expostulated gently;
laid his hand on his heart; and endeavoured to explain that the
prisoner was not arrested for any offence against the revenue laws, but
for high treason. Not a syllable of what he said was heard. At the
adjoining window stood Mr. Dulberry, labouring with a zeal as
ineffectual to heighten and to guide the storm which the Alderman was
labouring to lay. Like two rival candidates on the hustings, both stood
making a dumb show of grimaces, rhetorical gestures, and passionate
appeals; blowing hot and cold like Boreas and Phoebus in their contest
for the traveller; the one striving to sow, the other to extirpate
sedition: the reformer blowing the bellows and fanning the fire which
the magistrate was labouring to extinguish.

Fortunately perhaps for both, and possibly for all the parties
concerned, arguments were now at hand more efficacious than those of
either. At this moment a trampling of horses was heard