After that the thing became a military evolution. One hour, two hours at most, and twenty charges along the quays and through the streets sufficed—at the cost of a dozen lives—to convince the most obstinate of the rabble of several things. _Imprimis_, that the reign of terror was not come. On the contrary, that law and order, and also Red Judges, survived. That Reform did not spell fire and pillage, and that at these things even a Reforming Government could not wink. In a word, by noon of that day, Monday, and many and many an hour before the ruins had ceased to smoke, the bubble which might have been easily burst before was pricked. Order reigned in Bristol, patrols were everywhere, two thousand zealous constables guarded the streets. And though troops still continued to hasten by every road to the scene, though all England trembled with alarm, and distant Woolwich sent its guns, and Greenwich horsed them, and the Yeomanry of six counties mustered on Clifton Down, or were quartered on the public buildings, the thing was nought by that time. Arthur Vaughan had pricked it in the early morning light when he cried “Charge!” in Queen’s Square. XXXVI FORGIVENESS The first wave of thankfulness for crowning blessings or vital escapes has a softening quality against which the hearts of few are wholly proof. Old things, old hopes, old ties, old memories return on that gentle flood tide to eyes and mind. The barriers raised by time, the furrows of ancient wrong are levelled with the plain, and the generous breast cries “_Non nobis!_ Not to us only be the benefit!” Lady Lansdowne, with something of this kind in her thoughts and pity in her heart, sat eying Miss Sibson in a silence which disclosed nothing, and which the schoolmistress found irksome. Miss Sibson could beard Sir Robert at need; but of the great of her own sex—and she knew Lady Lansdowne for a very great lady, indeed—her sturdy nature went a little in awe. Had her ladyship encroached indeed, Miss Sibson would have known how to put her in her place. But a Lady Lansdowne perfectly polite and wholly silent imposed on her. She rubbed her nose and was glad when the visitor spoke. “Sir Robert has not seen her, then?” Miss Sibson smoothed out the lap of her dress. “No, my lady, not since she was brought into the house. Indeed, I can’t say that he saw her before, for he never looked at her.” “Do you think that I could see her?” The schoolmistress hesitated. “Well, my lady,” she said, “I am afraid that she will hardly live through the day.” “Then he must see her,” Lady Lansdowne replied quickly. And Miss Sibson observed with surprise that there were tears in the great lady’s eyes. “He must see her. Is she conscious?”