To his good
offices they had forfeited all right. Nevertheless, a crowd hung
about all day in front of the Mayor's house, nor dispersed until long
after nightfall. At eight o'clock next morning they reassembled,
word having flown through the town that Dr. Hansombody and Lawyer
Chinn had been summoned soon after daybreak to a private conference.
At eight-thirty the Vicar arrived and entered the house, Scipio
admitting him with ceremony and at once shutting the door behind him
with an elaborate show of caution.
But at a quarter to ten precisely the door opened again and the great
man himself stood on the threshold. He wore civilian dress, and
carried a three-caped travelling cloak on his left arm. His right
hand grasped a valise. The sight of the crowd for a moment seemed to
discompose him. He drew back a pace and then, advancing, cleared his
throat.
"My friends," said he, "I am bound on a journey. Your consciences
will tell you if I deserved yesterday's indignity, and how far you
might have obviated it. But I have communed with myself and decided
to overlook all personal offence. It is enough that certain of our
fellow-townsmen are in durance, and I go to release them. In short,
I travel to-day to Plymouth to seek the best legal advice for their
defence. In my absence I commit the good behaviour of Troy to your
keeping, one and all."
You, who have read how, when Nelson left Portsmouth for death and
victory, the throng pressed after him down the beach in tears, and
ran into the water for a last grasp of his hand, conceive with what
emotion we lined up and escorted our hero to the ferry; through what
tears we watched him from the Passage Slip as he waved back from the
boat tiding him over to the farther shore, where at length Boutigo's
Van--"The Eclipse," Troy to Torpoint, No Smoking Inside--received and
bore him from our straining eyes.
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