"That boy will never be anything but a ne'er-do-well," said Lady Vereker with a shrug. Three years later "that boy" became Prime Minister of England, and such a Prime Minister as England had never had before him. Meanwhile the crowd waxed more turbulent. The ferocity born of pleasure, the longing to destroy, peculiar to such huge assemblies of Englishmen, begin to make themselves manifest. As there were no more windows to break, what was to be done? "Pull down the house!" was the cry. "Get a beam and we will set our shoulders to it! Here are twenty good men of like mind! No: fetch some straw and fagots! Set fire to the door! Let us smoke the rats out of their trap!" A score of figures appeared, ghastly, sinister, suggesting pillage. In the general disorder the libertines grew bolder. The shrieks of women burst from obscure corners, followed by long, brutal laughter. "I am terrified! I feel as if I were going to faint," gasped Esther. Although she affected a show of courage, Lady Vereker was beginning to quail. "Indeed, I did very wrong to come here," she said; "let us try to retrace our steps or gain a side street." But it was too late. The mob increased with every moment. The crowds of new arrivals pressed down upon them, cutting off the retreat of those who sought to escape the turmoil. "I am stifling!" cried Esther wildly, as she lost her footing. At this moment a cry arose:-- "The Guards! the Guards!" The solid earth trembled beneath the gallop of the troop which had just turned the corner of Pall Mall and were charging up the street. Amidst the frightful tumult there came a second of silence and stupor, during which was heard the ring of hoofs as they struck the pavement and the commands of the officers:-- "Right about! Forward! Draw sabres!"