Contrary to the expectations of his lieutenants, he announced that he had no intention of remaining there, or even of leaving men in occupation. "Clear out the place--take all we want," he said to the half-dozen who were entirely in his confidence, "and then evacuate it. That's the ticket! To remain here would be telling the King's troops where to find us. That they must never know. Ours is to be a guerilla warfare. We meet on no two days in the same place. Each night, our day's work done, we disband--to re-assemble next day and to descend upon our enemies from North, South, East, or West, or possibly from all four corners of the compass together, as the chances of war may make necessary. As a strategic position, the Tower of London is of no earthly use to us. But we haven't done all our work here yet. "First, call up the string of forage vans which I have ordered to keep well in our rear, and give instructions to the men to have a good meal. The last three vans have red crosses upon them, as if to indicate that they contain hospital requirements. So they do--two of them, that is. The third contains the bombs and explosives which we carried away that night from the opium den. Before leaving this place we have to construct a secret mine--you must do the work yourselves--by which we can at any time blow up the Tower and everyone in it, in case the enemy should garrison it and use it as vantage ground against us. Get to work at once and report to me when all is ready, for we have other business on hand to-night, that London and England and all the world may know we mean to carry out what we have begun." Two hours later, the bugle-calls to re-assemble were sounded, and the rebel army re-formed to march westward by way of the Minories and Leadenhall Street to Cornhill, and so to the Bank of England, the Stock Exchange, the Royal Exchange, and the Mansion House, all of which were sacked and looted by the revolutionaries. This--so the Dumpling had decided--was to end the work for that day. The bugles of dismissal were sounded; and little by little the great armies of Labour melted away. CHAPTER XXXIV. LONDON IN REVOLUTION. Because the Rising had seemingly broken out in one day, because on the Saturday night London had gone to bed in peace and quietness, on the Sunday night London was aflame, and, on the Monday morning, London was apparently at peace again--because of all this, some hope was entertained in certain high official quarters that the trouble would subside as suddenly as it had arisen. So, at least--possibly for the prevention of panic--it was pretended, and when, at mid-day, there was no sign of a reassembling of the forces under the Dumpling's command the belief was expressed in certain early afternoon papers that the threatened safety of the Empire was assured.