The other struggled with him silently, but finding the young man too
strong for him, raised his eyes and said, "I am your father."

Barnaby released his hold, fell back, and looked at him aghast. Then he
sprang towards him, put his arms about his neck, and pressed his head
against his cheek. He never learnt that his father, supposed to have
been murdered, was himself a murderer. This was the widow's dreadful
secret.

And now Hugh, with a huge army, was at the gates of Newgate, bent on
rescue. He had returned, to find Barnaby taken, and at once announced
that the prison must be stormed. In vain the military commanders tried
to rouse the magistrates, and in particular the Lord Mayor; no orders
were given, and the soldiers could do nothing within the precincts of
the city without the warrant of the civil authorities.

In a dense mass the rioters halted before the prison-gate. All those who
had already been conspicuous were there, and others who had friends or
relatives within the jail hastened to the attack.

Hugh had brought, by force, old Gabriel Varden to pick the lock of the
great door, but this the sturdy locksmith resolutely refused to do.

"You have got some friends of ours in your custody, master," Hugh called
out to the head jailer, who had appeared on the roof. "Deliver up our
friends, and you may keep the rest."

"It's my duty to keep them all. I shall do my duty," replied the jailer,
firmly.