Bride sank back in her seat, pale, but with a look of quiet resolution, which bespoke the high courage of her race. The Duke put out his hand and took his daughter’s in its clasp, but remained otherwise perfectly quiet and unmoved. His fine old face regarded the tumult without a change or a quiver; his eyes looked quietly, though rather sternly, out from beneath the pent-house of his bushy brows, and his lips looked a little thin and grim. The men on the box were making a gallant fight, laying about them right and left with the great whip and with the reins, whose buckled end made no bad weapon when whirled round the head of some approaching ruffian. But these demonstrations only provoked the crowd to wilder fury, and Eustace knew not whether to open the door and remonstrate with both parties, or reserve his words for any attack likely to be made upon the party inside. It was a terribly anxious moment for him, knowing as he did the temper of the people, and the terrible lengths to which angry passions will drive furious and disappointed men. It was very plain that these turbulent malcontents had heard that Sir Roland seemed carrying the day; and their native bitterness towards all persons of rank and station was intensified fourfold by the discouraging news just made known. A large stone came crashing in through the window, shivering the glass to fragments, and sending the sharp morsels flying round the occupants in a most dangerous fashion. “Come out of that!--give up your coach to proper uses!” cried rough voices in every key. “Down with the tyrants and oppressors! Down with all dukes and baronets and fine gentlemen!” Eustace looked out of the window with flaming eyes. “Men!” he cried in a loud voice--and for a moment his well-known face and voice arrested attention and respect, “be men!--not brutes! There is a lady with us. Respect her womanhood, if you cannot respect her station; and let us pass in peace. You do not make war on women. Be men, and let us through. I will go with you if you will; but not till you have promised not to molest this carriage.” A mocking roar was the answer; those behind set it going, and the whole crowd took it up. “You!--and what are you, pray?--a turncoat--a deserter--a trimmer!”--and at that word a yell went up transcending anything that had gone before.