It was the signal for a general sack. Flinging off his Sunday coat, each deluded tradesman seized upon his property, or ransacked the house until he found it. The ironmonger caught up his fire-irons, the carpenter pulled down his shelves, the grocer dived into the pantry and emerged with tea and candles. It is said that the coal-merchant--who was a dandy--procured a sack, and with his own hand emptied the coal-cellar within half an hour. As each fresh article was confiscated, the crowd cheered anew. Never was such a scene in Troy. Even the local aristocracy-- the _Cumeelfo_--mingled with the throng and watched the havoc as curiously as their neighbours. No member of the Buzza family was there, nor Mr. Moggridge. But few others did Miss Limpenny fail to perceive as she sat with hands hanging limply and mourned to Lavinia-- "What disgrace! What a lasting blemish upon our society! There goes Hancock with the music-stool. To run away just before quarter-day, and they so refined to all appearance, so--My dear, they will have the house down. Papa told me once that during the Bristol riots-- I declare, there's the Doctor looking on! I wonder how he _can_." And the poor lady hid her face in her hands. By half past twelve all was over, and "The Bower" stripped of every article of furniture or consumption for which the money was owing. And yet, to the honour of Troy, no single theft or act of wanton destruction was perpetrated. Save for the trampled flowers and marks of dusty boots upon the carpets, the house was left as it stood on the day when Mr. and Mrs. Goodwyn-Sandys arrived. It should be mentioned, perhaps, that Seth Udy's little boy was detected with his fist in a jar of moist sugar; but Mrs. Udy, it was remarked, was a Penpoodle woman. The sack was accomplished; and the crowd, heated but conscious of a duty done, was returning with the spoil, when towards the north a white glare leapt into the heaven and as suddenly vanished. In a moment or so a dull roar followed, and the earth shuddered underfoot. Troy trembled. It remembered its neglected Sabbath, and trembled again. CHAPTER XXII. IN WHICH SEVERAL ATTEMPTS ARE MADE TO PUT A PERIOD TO THIS HISTORY. The congregation at St. Symphorian's on this memorable Sunday morning numbered nine persons. Possibly this was the reason why, against all precedent, the Vicar's sermon terminated at "thirdly." Woman has been stated so often, and by such capable observers, to be more inquisitive than man, that I will content myself with establishing an exception. Of these nine persons, five were women, and the remainder held the salaried posts of organist, organ-blower, pew-opener, and parish-clerk. Of the women, one was Tamsin Dearlove. It is noteworthy that Caleb spent his morning at "The Bower."