"No, no, no--d'ye think I'm a fool? Constable, come this way. They must
have gone into the back street."
Neither in back street nor in front street, however, could the
disturbers be perceived, and Blowbody and the second constable, who
came up at this time, brought similar intelligence. Effigies, donkey,
lanterns, band, all had disappeared like the crew of Comus.
"Now," said Mr. Grower, "there's only one thing more we can do. Get ye
half-a-dozen helpers, and go in a body to Mixen Lane, and into Peter's
finger. I'm much mistaken if you don't find a clue to the perpetrators
there."
The rusty-jointed executors of the law mustered assistance as soon as
they could, and the whole party marched off to the lane of notoriety. It
was no rapid matter to get there at night, not a lamp or glimmer of
any sort offering itself to light the way, except an occasional pale
radiance through some window-curtain, or through the chink of some door
which could not be closed because of the smoky chimney within. At last
they entered the inn boldly, by the till then bolted front-door, after a
prolonged knocking of loudness commensurate with the importance of their
standing.
In the settles of the large room, guyed to the ceiling by cords as
usual for stability, an ordinary group sat drinking and smoking with
statuesque quiet of demeanour.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406