And then another thing more astonishing happened, that House of Commons leaped to its feet and shouted in one long, vibrant roar, “Aye! Aye! Aye!” The eager agony of the assemblage then split and tore the proud repression that had almost strangled it. Cry upon cry started from various points, and the clamor grew, the agitation took on the aspect of disorder and panic, and then it resolved itself into thundering cheers for the King, and then, with electrifying unanimity the multitude sang the national anthem. It was over. The House of Commons had ordered the evacuation of England; the House of Peers would follow their lead, and while that evacuation would take place slowly, covering a long space of time, and permit the recreant forces of nature to reform--if they would--the face of the world as it had been, while it had consideration for all the conflicting interests involved, and was so skillfully framed as to cause the least shock of derangement to the immense business agencies, still it was a surrender of the proudest people on the face of the earth to the blind powers of nature, and it meant for Englishmen a new heaven and a new earth. Leacraft and Thomsen returned that night to their lodgings at the Bothwell Club, through Pall Mall, where but a few of the clubs were still in action and as they moved painfully along over the debris and dirt, the disturbed and shapeless heaps of snow, the abandoned articles of furniture, in front of some houses, and saw the darkened fronts of others, with broken windows, and broached and falling doors, noted the signs of interior commotion in the treasury, the admiralty, the foreign and Indian offices, the war office and the horse guards, they felt that Parliament had already been forestalled, and that the evacuation of London and with it all England had already begun. CHAPTER VIII. THE EVACUATION. Events were moving rapidly. Ever since the Parliament, by a legislative decree, had authorized the desertion of England, and the eventful day approached when the King and his household, the Parliament itself, and the Church and the Titled Estate should, in a formal and expressive manner, leave England’s shores, the mass of the population had been diligently hunting about for refuge and occupation. Steamers and ships had scattered in all directions the fleeing multitudes. Relatives abroad, friends and even acquaintances offered homes and employment, no utility now was too small to be considered, nor any designation too insignificant to merit attention. This scampering was largely among those who felt the pinch already of idleness and the diminishing chance of work, among operatives and workmen, clerks and the bread winners of the middle class. The nobleman and the pauper did not stir.