Sylvia's Lovers

The dull oil-lamps in the adjoining streets only made darkness

visible in the thronged market-place, where the buzz of many men's

unanswered questions was rising louder and louder. A strange feeling

of dread crept over those nearest to the closed market-house. Above

them in the air the bell was still clanging; but before them was a

door fast shut and locked; no one to speak and tell them why they

were summoned--where they ought to be. They were at the heart of the

mystery, and it was a silent blank! Their unformed dread took shape

at the cry from the outside of the crowd, from where men were still

coming down the eastern side of Bridge Street. 'The gang! the gang!'

shrieked out some one. 'The gang are upon us! Help! help!' Then the

fire-bell had been a decoy; a sort of seething the kid in its

mother's milk, leading men into a snare through their kindliest

feelings. Some dull sense of this added to utter dismay, and made

them struggle and strain to get to all the outlets save that in

which a fight was now going on; the swish of heavy whips, the thud

of bludgeons, the groans, the growls of wounded or infuriated men,

coming with terrible distinctness through the darkness to the

quickened ear of fear.

A breathless group rushed up the blackness of a narrow entry to

stand still awhile, and recover strength for fresh running. For a

time nothing but heavy pants and gasps were heard amongst them. No

one knew his neighbour, and their good feeling, so lately abused and

preyed upon, made them full of suspicion. The first who spoke was

recognized by his voice.

'Is it thee, Daniel Robson?' asked his neighbour, in a low tone.

'Ay! Who else should it be?' 'A dunno.' 'If a am to be any one else, I'd like to be a chap of nobbut eight

stun. A'm welly done for!' 'It were as bloody a shame as iver I heerd on. Who's to go t' t'

next fire, a'd like to know!' 'A tell yo' what, lads,' said Daniel, recovering his breath, but

speaking in gasps. 'We were a pack o' cowards to let 'em carry off

yon chaps as easy as they did, a'm reckoning!' 'A think so, indeed,' said another voice.

Daniel went on-'We was two hunder, if we was a man; an' t' gang has niver numbered

above twelve.' 'But they was armed. A seen t' glitter on their cutlasses,' spoke

out a fresh voice.

'What then!' replied he who had latest come, and who stood at the

mouth of the entry. 'A had my whalin' knife wi' me i' my pea-jacket

as my missus threw at me, and a'd ha' ripped 'em up as soon as

winkin', if a could ha' thought what was best to do wi' that d----d

bell makin' such a din reet above us. A man can but die onest, and

we was ready to go int' t' fire for t' save folks' lives, and yet

we'd none on us t' wit to see as we might ha' saved yon poor chaps

as screeched out for help.' 'They'll ha' getten 'em to t' Randyvowse by now,' said some one.