to the flagged pathway, the crowd opening to make way for him. He walked
on with a deliberate firm step; the mob moving along with him, sometimes
huzzaing, sometimes uttering horrid execrations in horrid tones. Lord
Oldborough, preserving absolute silence, still walked on, never turned his
head, or quickened his pace, till he reached his own house. Then, facing
the mob, as he stood waiting till the door should be opened, the people,
struck with his intrepidity, with one accord joined in a shout of applause.

The next instant, and before the door was opened, they cried, "Hat
off!--Hat off!"

Lord Oldborough's hat never stirred. A man took up a stone.

"Mark that man!" cried Lord Oldborough.

The door opened. "Return to your homes, my countrymen, and bless God that
you have not any of you to answer this night for murder!"

Then entering his house, he took off his hat, and gave it to one of his
attendants. His secretary, Temple, had run down stairs to meet him,
inquiring what was the cause of the disturbance.

"Only," said Lord Oldborough, "that I have served the people, but never
bent to them."

"Curse them! they are not worth serving. Oh! I thought they'd have taken
my lord's life that minute," cried his faithful servant Rodney. "The sight
left my eyes. I thought he was gone for ever. Thank God! he's safe. Take
off my lord's coat--I can't--for the soul of me. Curse those ungrateful
people!"