"It is I, George, Mr. Broad. Please tell me how Priscilla is, and--
how you all are after your fright. I will not come in if you are all
well."
"No, Mr. George, you will not come in. I little thought that a
member of Tanner's Lane Church, and my daughter's husband, would
associate himself with such disgraceful proceedings as those we have
witnessed this evening."
"But, Mr. Broad, you are quite mistaken. I was not with the mob. I
came here as soon as I could to protect you."
Mr. Broad, terrified and wrathful, had, however, disappeared, and
George heard the bolts drawn. He was beside himself with passion,
and knocked again and again, but there was no answer. He was
inclined to try and break open the door at first, or seek an entrance
through a window, but he thought of Priscilla, and desisted.
He was turning homewards, when he reflected that it would be useless
to attempt to go to sleep, and he wandered out into the country
towards Piddingfold, pondering over many things. The reaction of
that night had been too severe. His ardour was again almost entirely
quenched when he saw the men for whom he had worked, and who
professed themselves his supporters, filthily drunk.
Pages:
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349