“Come along, Darcy, we must walk; they say no carriage can get through the mob.” And, with these words, he took the Knight's arm and sallied forth, while Sandy followed, conveying a large cloth cloak over his arm, which only partially concealed an ominous-looking box of mahogany wood, strapped with brass. A crowd awaited them as they reached the street, by which they were escorted through the denser mass that thronged the great thoroughfare, the mere mention of their names being sufficient to force a passage even where the mob stood thickest. The space in front of the Parliament House and before the College was filled with soldiers; while patrols of cavalry traversed every avenue leading to it, for information had reached the Government that violence might be apprehended from a mob whose force and numbers were alluded to by members within the House in terms meant to intimidate, while the presence of the soldiery was retorted by the Opposition as a measure of tyranny and oppression of the Castle party. Brushing somewhat roughly through the armed line, Daly, with the Knight beside him, entered the space, and was passing onward, when a bustle and a confused uproar behind him arrested his steps. Believing that it might be to Sandy's progress some objection was offered, Daly wheeled round, when he saw two policemen in the act of dragging away a boy, whose loud cries for help from the mob were incessant, while he mingled the name of Mr. Daly through his entreaties. “What is it?” said Daly. “Does the fellow want me?” [Illustration: 234] “Never mind him,” said Darcy; “the boy has caught up your name, and that's all.” But the urchin struggled and kicked with all his might; and, although overpowered by superior strength, gave battle to the last, screaming at the top of his voice, “One word with Mr. Daly,--just one word!” Bagenal Daly turned back, and, approaching the scene of contest, said, “Have you anything to say to me? I am Mr. Daly.” “If they 'd let me go my hands, I 've something to give you,” said the boy, who, although sorely bruised and beaten, seemed to care less for his own troubles than for the object of his enterprise. At a word from Daly, the policemen relinquished their hold, and stood guard on either side, while the boy, giving himself a shake, leered up in Daly's face with an expression he could not fail to recognize. “There's a way to treat a young gentleman at home for the Christmas holidays!” said the imp, with a compassionate glance at his torn and tattered garments, while the words and the tone they were uttered in sent a shout of laughter through the mob. “What, Jemmy!” said Daly, stooping down and accosting him in a whisper, for it was no other than that reputable youth himself, “you here?” “Just so, sir. Ain't I in a nice way to appear at the Privy Council?”