Behind the printing office in the alley at the door of which we leftSybil, was a yard which led to some premises that had once been usedas a work-shop, but were now generally unoccupied. In a rather spaciouschamber over which was a loft, five men, one of whom was Gerard, werebusily engaged. There was no furniture in the room except a few chairsand a deal table, on which was a solitary light and a variety of papers.
"Depend upon it," said Gerard, "we must stick to the National Holiday:we can do nothing effectively, unless the movement is simultaneous. Theyhave not troops to cope with a simultaneous movement, and the Holiday isthe only machinery to secure unity of action. No work for six weeks, andthe rights of Labour will be acknowledged!"
"We shall never be able to make the people unanimous in a cessationof labour," said a pale young man, very thin but with a countenance ofremarkable energy. "The selfish instincts will come into play and willbaulk our political object, while a great increase of physical sufferingmust be inevitable."
"It might be done," said a middle-aged, thickset man, in a thoughtfultone. "If the Unions were really to put their shoulder to the wheel, itmight be done."
"And if it is not done," said Gerard, "what do you propose? The peopleask you to guide them. Shrink at such a conjuncture, and our influenceover them is forfeited and justly forfeited."
"I am for partial but extensive insurrections," said the young man."Sufficient in extent and number to demand all the troops and yet todistract the military movements. We can count on Birmingham again, if weact at once before their new Police Act is in force; Manchester isripe; and several of the cotton towns; but above all I have letters thatassure me that at this moment we can do anything in Wales."
"Glamorganshire is right to a man," said Wilkins a Baptist teacher. "Andtrade is so bad that the Holiday at all events must take place there,for the masters themselves are extinguishing their furnaces.
"All the north is seething," said Gerard.
"We must contrive to agitate the metropolis," said Maclast, a shrewdcarroty-haired paper-stainer. "We must have weekly meetings atKennington and demonstrations at White Conduit House: we cannot do morehere I fear than talk, but a few thousand men on Kennington Common everySaturday and some spicy resolutions will keep the Guards in London."
"Ay, ay," said Gerard; "I wish the woollen and cotton trades were as badto do as the iron, and we should need no holiday as you say, Wilkins.However it will come. In the meantime the Poor-law pinches andterrifies, and will make even the most spiritless turn."
"The accounts to-day from the north are very encouraging though," saidthe young man. "Stevens is producing a great effect, and this plan ofour people going in procession and taking possession of the churchesvery much affects the imagination of the multitude."
"Ah!" said Gerard, "if we could only have the Church on our side, asin the good old days, we would soon put an end to the demon tyranny ofCapital."
"And now," said the pale young man, taking up a manuscript paper, "toour immediate business. Here is the draft of the projected proclamationof the Convention on the Birmingham outbreak. It enjoins peace andorder, and counsels the people to arm themselves in order to secureboth. You understand: that they may resist if the troops and the policeendeavour to produce disturbance."
"Ay, ay," said Gerard. "Let it be stout. We will settle this at once,and so get it out to-morrow. Then for action."
"But we must circulate this pamphlet of the Polish Count on the mannerof encountering cavalry with pikes," said Maclast.
"'Tis printed," said the stout thickset man; "we have set it up on abroadside. We have sent ten thousand to the north and five thousandto John Frost. We shall have another delivery tomorrow. It takes verygenerally."
The pale young man read the draft of the proclamation it was canvassedand criticised sentence by sentence; altered, approved: finally put tothe vote, and unanimously carried. On the morrow it was to be posted inevery thoroughfare of the metropolis, and circulated in every great cityof the provinces and populous district of labour.
"And now," said Gerard, "I shall to-morrow to the north, where I amwanted. But before I go I propose, as suggested yesterday, that we fivetogether with Langley, whom I counted on seeing here to-night, nowform ourselves into a committee for arming the people. Three of us arepermanent in London Wilkins and myself will aid you in the provinces.Nothing can be decided on this head till we see Langley, who will makea communication from Birmingham that cannot be trusted to writing. Theseven o'clock train must have long since arrived. He is now a good hourbehind his time."
"I hear foot-steps," said Maclast.
"He comes," said Gerard.
The door of the chamber opened and a woman entered. Pale, agitated,exhausted, she advanced to them in the glimmering light.
"What is this?" said several of the council.
"Sybil!" exclaimed the astonished Gerard, and he rose from his seat.
She caught the arm of her father, and leant on him for a moment insilence. Then looking up with an expression that seemed to indicate shewas rallying her last energies, she said, in a voice low yet so distinctthat it reached the ear of all present, "There is not an instant tolose: fly!"
The men rose hastily from their seats; they approached the messengerof danger; Gerard waved them off, for he perceived his daughter wassinking. Gently he placed her in his chair; she was sensible, for shegrasped his arm, and she murmured--still she murmured--"fly!"
"'Tis very strange," said Maclast.
"I feel queer!" said the thickset man.
"Methinks she looks like a heavenly messenger," said Wilkins. "I hadno idea that earth had anything so fair," said the youthful scribe ofproclamations.
"Hush friends!" said Gerard: and then he bent over Sybil and said in alow soothing voice, "Tell me, my child, what is it?"
She looked up to her father; a glance as it were of devotion anddespair: her lips moved, but they refused their office and expressed nowords. There was a deep silence in the room.
"She is gone," said her father.
"Water," said the young man, and he hurried away to obtain some.
"I feel queer," said his thickset colleague to Maclast.
"I will answer for Langley as for myself." said Maclast; "and there isnot another human being aware of our purpose."
"Except Morley."
"Yes: except Morley. But I should as soon doubt Gerard as StephenMorley."
"Certainly."
"I cannot conceive how she traced me," said Gerard. "I have never evenbreathed to her of our meeting. Would we had some water! Ah! here itcomes.
"I arrest you in the Queen's name," said a serjeant of police."Resistance is vain." Maclast blew out the light, and then ran upinto the loft, followed by the thickset man, who fell down the stairs:Wilkins got up the chimney. The sergeant took a lanthorn from hispocket, and threw a powerful light on the chamber, while his followersentered, seized and secured all the papers, and commenced their search.
The light fell upon a group that did not move: the father holding thehand of his insensible child, while he extended his other arm as if topreserve her from the profanation of the touch of the invaders.
"You are Walter Gerard, I presume," said the serjeant, "six foot twowithout shoes."
"Whoever I may he," he replied, "I presume you will produce yourwarrant, friend, before you touch me."
"'Tis here. We want five of you, named herein, and all others that mayhappen to be found in your company."
"I shall obey the warrant," said Gerard after he had examined it; "butthis maiden, my daughter, knows nothing of this meeting or its purpose.She has but just arrived, and how she traced me I know not. You will letme recover her, and then permit her to depart."
"Can't let no one out of my sight found in this room."
"But she is innocent, even if we were guilty; she could be nothing elsebut innocent, for she knows nothing of this meeting and its business,both of which I am prepared at the right time and place to vindicate.She entered
this room a moment only before yourself, entered andswooned."
"Can't help that; must take her; she can tell the magistrate anythingshe likes, and he must decide."
"Why you are not afraid of a young girl?"
"I am afraid of nothing; but I must do my duty. Come we have no time fortalk. I must take you both."
"By G--d you shall not take her;" and letting go her hand, Gerardadvanced before her and assumed a position of defence. "You know,I find, my height: my strength does not shame my stature! Look toyourself. Advance and touch this maiden, and I will fell you and yourminions like oxen at their pasture."
The inspector took a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Gerard."You see," he said, "resistance is quite vain."
"For slaves and cravens, but not for us. I say you shall not touch hertill I am dead at her feet. Now, do your worst."
At this moment two policemen who had been searching the loft descendedwith Maclast who had vainly attempted to effect his escape over aneighbouring roof; the thickset man was already secured; and Wilkins hadbeen pulled down the chimney and made his appearance in as grimy a stateas such a shelter would naturally have occasioned. The young man too,their first prisoner who had been captured before they had entered theroom, was also brought in; there was now abundance of light; the fourprisoners were ranged and well guarded at the end of the apartment;Gerard standing before Sybil still maintained his position of defence,and the serjeant was, a few yards away, in his front with his pistol inhis hand.
"Well you are a queer chap," said the serjeant; "but I must do my duty.I shall give orders to my men to seize you, and if you resist them, Ishall shoot you through the head."
"Stop!" called out one of the prisoners, the young man who drewproclamations, "she moves. Do with us as you think fit, but you cannotbe so harsh as to seize one that is senseless, and a woman!"
"I must do my duty," said the serjeant rather perplexed at thesituation. "Well, if you like, take steps to restore her, and when shehas come to herself, she shall be moved in a hackney coach alone withher father."
The means at hand to recover Sybil were rude, but they assisted areviving nature. She breathed, she sighed, slowly opened her beautifuldark eyes, and looked around. Her father held her death-cold hand; shereturned his pressure: her lips moved, and still she murmured "fly!"
Gerard looked at the serjeant. "I am ready," he said, "and I will carryher." The officer nodded assent. Guarded by two policemen the talldelegate of Mowbray bore his precious burthen out of the chamber throughthe yard, the printing-offices, up the alley, till a hackney coachreceived them in Hunt Street, round which a mob had already collected,though kept at a discreet distance by the police. One officer enteredthe coach with them: another mounted the box. Two other coaches carriedthe rest of the prisoners and their guards, and within halt an hour fromthe arrival of Sybil at the scene of the secret meeting, she was on herway to Bow Street to be examined as a prisoner of state.
Sybil rallied quickly during their progress to the police office.Satisfied to find herself with her father she would have enquired as toall that had happened, but Gerard at first discouraged her; at length hethought it wisest gradually to convey to her that they were prisoners,but he treated the matter lightly, did not doubt that she wouldimmediately be discharged, and added that though he might be detainedfor a day or so, his offence was at all events bailable and he hadfriends on whom he could rely. When Sybil clearly comprehended thatshe was a prisoner, and that her public examination was impending, shebecame silent, and leaning back in the coach, covered her face with herhands.
The prisoners arrived at Bow Street; they were hurried into a backoffice, where they remained some time unnoticed, several police-menremaining in the room. At length about twenty minutes having elapsed, aman dressed in black and of a severe aspect entered the room accompaniedby an inspector of police. He first enquired whether these were theprisoners, what were their names and descriptions, which each had togive and which were written down, where they were arrested, why theywere arrested: then scrutinising them sharply he said the magistrate wasat the Home Office, and he doubted whether they could be examined untilthe morrow. Upon this Gerard commenced stating the circumstances underwhich Sybil had unfortunately been arrested, but the gentleman in blackwith a severe aspect, immediately told him to hold his tongue, and whenGerard persisted, declared that if Gerard did not immediately ceasehe should be separated from the other prisoners and be ordered intosolitary confinement.
Another half hour of painful suspense. The prisoners were not permittedto hold any conversation Sybil sat half reclining on a form with herback against the wall, and her face covered, silent and motionless. Atthe end of half an hour the inspector of police who had visited themwith the gentleman in black entered and announced that the prisonerscould not be brought up for examination that evening, and they must makethemselves as comfortable as they could for the night. Gerard made alast appeal to the inspector that Sybil might be allowed a separatechamber and in this he was unexpectedly successful.
The inspector was a kind-hearted man: he lived at the office and hiswife was the housekeeper. He had already given her an account,an interesting account, of his female prisoner. The good woman'simagination was touched as well as her heart; she had herself suggestedthat they ought to soften the rigour of the fair prisoner's lot; and theinspector therefore almost anticipated the request of Gerard. He beggedSybil to accompany him to his better half, and at once promised all thecomforts and convenience which they could command. As, attended by theinspector, she took her way to the apartments of his family, they passedthrough a room in which there were writing materials, and Sybil speakingfor the first time and in a faint voice enquired of the inspectorwhether it were permitted to apprise a friend of her situation. She wasanswered in the affirmative, on condition that the note was previouslyperused by him.
"I will write it at once," she said, and taking up a pen she inscribedthese words,
"I followed your counsel; I entreated him to quit London this night. Hepledged himself to do so on the morrow.
"I learnt he was attending a secret meeting; that there was urgentperil. I tracked him through scenes of terror. Alas! I arrived only intime to be myself seized as a conspirator, and I have been arrested andcarried a prisoner to Bow Street, where I write this.
"I ask you not to interfere for him: that would be vain; but if I werefree, I might at least secure him justice. But I am not free: I am to bebrought up for public examination to-morrow, if I survive this night.
"You are powerful; you know all; you know what I say is truth. None elsewill credit it. Save me!"
"And now," said Sybil to the inspector in a tone of mournful desolationand of mild sweetness, "all depends on your faith to me," and sheextended him the letter, which he read.
"Whoever he may be and wherever he may be," said the inspector withemotion, for the spirit of Sybil had already controlled his nature,"provided the person to whom this letter is addressed is within possibledistance, fear not it shall reach him."
"I will seal and address it then," said Sybil, and she addressed theletter to
"THE HON. CHARLES EGREMONT M.P."
adding that superscription the sight of which had so agitated Egremontat Deloraine House.
Book 5 Chapter 9
Sybil, Or, The Two Nations Page 55