As by degrees folk had come out of the daze into which Cope’s arrival had thrown them, growls and murmurs had begun to be heard. A town’s meeting had been held (none knew exactly by whom convened), in an upper chamber of the Piece Hall, and their temper had begun to show then, for half-a-dozen soldiers who claimed admittance “by order” had been bundled out with little ceremony. Back o’ th’ Mooiners assembled in bands. At one house a search had been resisted, and scuffling had taken place. The soldiers no longer had the square to themselves, for groups buzzed angrily among the Piece Hall pillars and the blinds of the houses had been raised again. There had been stone-throwing up the Fullergate. A deputation had waited on Cope at his house, and Cope had again been incontrollably shaken with silent mirth. There were four new stacks in Webster’s yard, and a three-quarters cut old one. They were not thatched, but covered by wooden roofs that ran up and down corner-posts on pulleys. Hundreds of people followed the soldiers thither, and some of the Back o’ th’ Mooiners were talking their jargon again. Webster watched sullenly from his door the soldiers surround his premises; but the mob could not be kept out, and the yard was packed. They knew now what or whom the officer in charge looked to find there; word was passed that an orderly had ridden the previous evening up the Fullergate for more troops, that were to advance to Wadsworth and Back o’ th’ Mooin itself; and the crowd surged this way and that, no man using force, but of formidable force in the mass. The surrounding of the premises was futile; the officer in charge gave sharp orders; and with bayonets fixed a double rank of men facing outwards formed a lane from the gate to the stacks. The rest drew up in close order out in the road. Down the bayonet-guarded lane four men advanced with a ladder. It was placed against the foremost stack, and a man went up it with a pistol in his hand and crawled under the wooden roof. “He’ll ha’ little time to use a pistol if Arthur gets a hand on him i’ yonder,” the watchers muttered; and the next moment they had grown suddenly quiet. By and by the man came out from under the roof again, and the ladder was set up against the next stack. Soon they had searched the tops of the four stacks and thrust rakes and bayonets beneath them. “Throw the ricks down,” the officer ordered.