Brave deeds were done that night; rescues effected in the face of almost certain death; buildings pulled down and cut away to check the spreading of the conflagration. But without means of utilising the water supply, what had once been seized by fire burnt out to its cindered end. Strong military guards were ordered by the general commanding the Home District to the railway stations. Euston, St Pancras, and King’s Cross remained intact. Paddington escaped with some damage to the goods department. Both the hotels and stations at Charing Cross and Cannon Street burst into flames almost simultaneously. The royal palaces suffered no injury. Incendiaries were caught red-handed, just in time, at the British Museum, and the better sort of people, now roused to retaliatory fury by these malignant acts, almost tore the offenders limb from limb. London in its desperation found some courage. The quiet, orderly inhabitants had borne almost as much as could be borne. They realised, moreover, that yet worse things might happen unless the hydra-headed monster of disorder could be crushed. London might starve. Meat, milk, vegetables would fail; all the necessaries of daily life might be cut off, if the railways should be blocked. Six millions, young and old, would be the almost helpless victims of the Leaguers. Those who had gone about the streets wearing the Spider as a talisman suddenly found that it was a dangerous sign. Right and left were heard loud curses on the League. Men began to see the full significance of the long-tolerated movement--a growing canker at the heart of the nation, which gave the nation’s enemies without the very opportunity they had planned and watched and waited for. There was still some tough material in Englishmen; and if the authorities could not help them, they would help themselves. The tide began to turn. The giant was stirring. It had needed a galvanic shock to rouse his brain; and verily, the shock had come at last. It was, indeed, time to wake from sleep, and throw aside “the drowsy syrups of the world.” In that fiery, sleepless night, in many districts great numbers of the younger men of the better class banded themselves together, beating up recruits from house to house, and posting watchers to give warning of incendiary attempts. Armed with whatever weapons they could find, they systematically patrolled the streets. Shouts of “Down with the Leaguers!” burst out from time to time, and women and children, peeping and cowering behind the window-blinds, gathered hope and courage. At last the men of London had been roused!