The audience at first disapproved. There were loud cries of "Stow it!"--"Shut up!"--"Let the ladies alone!"--and there was little attempt to obstruct the police as they moved forward. But then, by ill-luck, the powerfully-built fair-haired man, who had been speaking when Winnington and Andrews entered the market place, rushed to the front of the waggon, and in a white heat of fury, began to denounce both the assailants of the speakers, and the crowd in general, as "cowardly louts"--on whom argument was thrown away--who could only be reached "through their backs, or their pockets"--with other compliments of the same sort, under which the temper of the "moderates" rapidly gave way. "What an ass! What a damned ass!" groaned Andrews indignantly. "Look here Winnington, you take care of Miss Blanchflower--I'll answer for the other!" And amid a general shouting and scuffling, through which some stones were beginning to fly, Winnington found himself leaping on the waggon, followed by Andrews and a couple of police. Delia confronted him--undaunted, though breathless. "What do you want? We're all right!" "You must come away at once. I can get you through the hotel." "Not at all! We must put the Resolution." "Come Miss!--" said the tall constable behind Winnington--"no use talking! There's a lot of fellows here that mean mischief. You go with this gentleman. He'll look after you." "Not without my friend!" cried Delia, both hands behind her on the edge of the waggon--erect and defiant. "Gertrude!--" she raised her voice--"What do you wish to do?" But amid the din, her appeal was not heard. Gertrude Marvell however could be clearly seen on the other side of the waggon, with Paul Lathrop beside her, listening to the remonstrances and entreaties of Andrews, with a smile as cool, as though she were in the drawing-room of Maumsey Abbey, and the Captain were inviting her to trifle with a cup of tea. "Take her along, Sir!" said the policeman, with a nod to Winnington. "It's getting ugly." And as he spoke, a man jumped upon the waggon, a Latchford doctor, an acquaintance of Winnington's, who said something in his ear. The next moment, a fragment of a bottle, flung from a distance, struck Winnington on the wrist. The blood rushed out, and Delia, suddenly white, looked from it to Winnington's face. The only notice he took of the incident was expressed in the instinctive action of rolling his handkerchief round it. But it stirred him to lay a grasp upon Delia's arm, which she could hardly have resisted. She did not, however, resist. She felt herself lifted down from the waggon, and hurried along, the police keeping back the crowd, into the open door of the hotel. Shouts of a populace half enraged, half amused, pursued her. "Brutes--Cowards!" she gasped, between her teeth--then to Winnington--"Where are you taking me? I have the car!"