“The soldiers! the soldiers!” screamed the populace from below; and at the instant a heavy lumbering sound crept on, and the head of a cavalry squadron wheeled into the square before the jail. The remainder of the troop soon defiled; but instead of advancing, as was expected, they opened their ranks, and displayed the formidable appearance of two eight-pounders, from which the limbers were removed with lightning speed, and their mouths turned full upon the crowd. Meanwhile an infantry force was seen entering the opposite side of the square, thus showing the mob that they were taken in front and rear, no escape being open save by the small alleys which led off from the street before the prison. The military preparations took scarcely more time to effect than we have employed to relate; and now began a scene of tumult and terror the most dreadful to witness. The order to prime and load, followed by the clanking crash of four hundred muskets; the close ranks of the cavalry, as if with difficulty restrained from charging down upon them; and the lighted fuses of the artillery,--all combined to augment the momentary dread, and the shouts of vengeance so lately heard were at once changed into piercing cries for mercy. The blazing houses, from which the red fire shot up unrestrained, no longer attracted notice,--the jail itself had no interest for those whose danger was become so imminent. An indiscriminate rush was made towards the narrow lanes for escape, and from these arose the most piercing and agonizing cries,--for while pressed down and trampled, many were trodden under foot never again to rise; others were wounded or burned by the falling timbers of the blazing buildings; and the fearful cry of “The soldiers! the soldiers!” still goaded them on by those behind. “Look yonder,” cried Darcy's companion, seizing him by the arm,--“look there,--near the corner of the market! See, the troops have not perceived that ladder, and there are two fellows now descending it.” True enough. At a remote angle of the jail, not concealed from view by the smoke, stood the ladder in question. “How slowly they move!” cried Darcy, his eyes fixed upon the figures with that strange anxiety so inseparable from the fate of all who are engaged in hazardous enterprise. “They will certainly be taken.” “They must be wounded,” cried the other; “they seem to creep rather than step--I know the reason, they are in fetters.” Scarcely was the explanation uttered when the ladder was seen to be violently moved as if from above, and the next moment was hurled back from the wall, on which several soldiers were now perceived firing on those below. “They are lost!” said the Knight; “they are either captured or cut down by this time.” “The square is cleared already,” said the other; “how quietly the troops have done their work! And the fire begins to yield to the engines.”