A way was cleared for the men with the beam. The people separated on both sides. The men turned out of Porter Street and ran up into the lane. The men engaged in carrying the baulk were too intent upon getting it to its destination as quick as possible to observe one fatal defect. One onlooker shouted out: "Too long. Too long." Then the men carrying it swept up, way was made for them, and they tried to bring the beam into position for use as a battering-ram against the door. Then the onlooker's words were confirmed by experience, and it was seen that it would be utterly impossible to use the baulk effectually as a ram, for, owing to the narrowness of the lane, it was impossible to get it at right angles to the door, and striking the door with it at an acute angle would not be likely to produce the desired effect. However, it was better to try this which was at hand, than to do nothing at all. In the meantime some better means might be devised of bursting open the door. Once, twice, thrice, half-a-dozen times the men thrust the beam obliquely against the massive woodwork. It merely glanced off the thick stubborn oak, and more than two-thirds of its power was expended upon the solid and immovable stonework of the doorway. Other pieces of timber were brought, but all proved too long to be of any effective use. The shortest, it is true, could be brought into a horizontal position against the door, but it allowed of no play, and therefore was incapable of receiving the necessary impetus. Then the crowd began to clamour for sledges. A great, brown-bearded man, tall, lank, and rounded in the shoulders, broke away from the crowd crying: "I'll soon get it open; I'll soon break it in." This man was celebrated in Porter Street for his enormous strength. No sooner had he undertaken to burst in the door than all other efforts were suspended, in the full faith that he would make good his words. In a few moments he returned, bearing in each hand a square half-hundredweight. He hastened up to the door and said: "Someone must hold me." But how are they to hold him? "I want," he said, "to put my back against the door, lift these up this way" (he raised the half-hundreds above his head as though they were no heavier than boxing-gloves), "then I'll bring them down against the door; but if it bursts open I don't want to fall in, for there's a pit inside." The difficulty now was how to hold him, and at the same time give him free play with the weights, and avoid any possibility of the weights in the downward swoop touching anyone who might aid him. Some time was lost in trying to arrange so that he might be held, prevented from falling inward, and, at the same time, not impeded. At last he cried: "Let me alone; I can manage it myself. Stand back. Don't be afraid of me."