The lobby was yet full; it was a fine thing in the light of the
archway to see Cadurcis spring into his saddle. Instantly there was a
horrible yell. Yet in spite of all their menaces, the mob were for a
time awed by his courage; they made way for him; he might even have
rode quickly on for some few yards, but he would not; he reined his
fiery steed into a slow but stately pace, and, with a countenance
scornful and composed, he continued his progress, apparently
unconscious of impediment. Meanwhile, the hooting continued without
abatement, increasing indeed, after the first comparative pause,
in violence and menace. At length a bolder ruffian, excited by the
uproar, rushed forward and seized Cadurcis' bridle. Cadurcis struck
the man over the eyes with his whip, and at the same time touched his
horse with his spur, and the assailant was dashed to the ground. This
seemed a signal for a general assault. It commenced with hideous
yells. His friends at the house, who had watched everything with the
keenest interest, immediately directed all the constables who were at
hand to rush to his succour; hitherto they had restrained the police,
lest their interference might stimulate rather than repress the mob.
The charge of the constables was well timed; they laid about them with
their staves; you might have heard the echo of many a broken crown.
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