They went at once to a small inn hard by, and Mrs. Coleman began to
overwhelm him with interrogation; but he quietly suggested that not a
syllable should be spoken till they had had some rest, and that they
should swallow their supper and go to bed. In the morning Zachariah
rose and looked out of the window. He saw nothing but a small
backyard in which some miserable, scraggy fowls were crouching under
a cart to protect themselves from the rain, which was falling heavily
through the dim, smoky air. His spirits sank. He had no fear of
apprehension or prosecution, but the prospect before him was
depressing. Although he was a poor man, he had not been accustomed
to oscillations of fortune, and he was in an utterly strange place,
with five pounds in his pocket, and nothing to do.
He was, however, resolved not to yield, and thought it best to begin
with his wife before she could begin with him.
"Now, my dear, tell me what has happened, who sent you here, and what
kind of a journey you have had?"
"Mr. Bradshaw came about seven o'clock, and told me the Government
was about to suppress the Friends of the People; that you did not
know it; that I must go to Manchester; that you would come after me;
and that a message would be left for you.
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