Uncertain where to go next, and bewildered by the crowd of peoplewho were already astir, they sat down in one of the recesses on the bridge, to rest. They soon became aware that the stream of lifewas all pouring one way, and that a vast throng of persons werecrossing the river from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore, inunusual haste and evident excitement. They were, for the mostpart, in knots of two or three, or sometimes half-a-dozen; theyspoke little together--many of them were quite silent; and hurriedon as if they had one absorbing object in view, which was common tothem all.
They were surprised to see that nearly every man in this greatconcourse, which still came pouring past, without slackening in theleast, wore in his hat a blue cockade; and that the chancepassengers who were not so decorated, appeared timidly anxious toescape observation or attack, and gave them the wall as if theywould conciliate them. This, however, was natural enough,considering their inferiority in point of numbers; for theproportion of those who wore blue cockades, to those who weredressed as usual, was at least forty or fifty to one. There was noquarrelling, however: the blue cockades went swarming on, passingeach other when they could, and ****** all the speed that waspossible in such a multitude; and exchanged nothing more thanlooks, and very often not even those, with such of the passers-byas were not of their number.
At first, the current of people had been confined to the twopathways, and but a few more eager stragglers kept the road. Butafter half an hour or so, the passage was completely blocked up bythe great press, which, being now closely wedged together, andimpeded by the carts and coaches it encountered, moved but slowly,and was sometimes at a stand for five or ten minutes together.
After the lapse of nearly two hours, the numbers began to diminishvisibly, and gradually dwindling away, by little and little, leftthe bridge quite clear, save that, now and then, some hot and dustyman, with the cockade in his hat, and his coat thrown over hisshoulder, went panting by, fearful of being too late, or stopped toask which way his friends had taken, and being directed, hastenedon again like one refreshed. In this comparative solitude, whichseemed quite strange and novel after the late crowd, the widow hadfor the first time an opportunity of inquiring of an old man whocame and sat beside them, what was the meaning of that greatassemblage.
"Why, where have you come from," he returned, "that you haven"theard of Lord George Gordon"s great association? This is the daythat he presents the petition against the Catholics, God bless him!"
"What have all these men to do with that?" she said.
"What have they to do with it!" the old man replied. "Why, how youtalk! Don"t you know his lordship has declared he won"t present itto the house at all, unless it is attended to the door by fortythousand good and true men at least? There"s a crowd for you!"
"A crowd indeed!" said Barnaby. "Do you hear that, mother!"
"And they"re mustering yonder, as I am told," resumed the old man,"nigh upon a hundred thousand strong. Ah! Let Lord George alone.
He knows his power. There"ll be a good many faces inside themthree windows over there," and he pointed to where the House ofCommons overlooked the river, "that"ll turn pale when good LordGeorge gets up this afternoon, and with reason too! Ay, ay. Lethis lordship alone. Let him alone. HE knows!" And so, with muchmumbling and chuckling and shaking of his forefinger, he rose, withthe assistance of his stick, and tottered off.
"Mother!" said Barnaby, "that"s a brave crowd he talks of. Come!"
"Not to join it!" cried his mother.
"Yes, yes," he answered, plucking at her sleeve. "Why not? Come!"
"You don"t know," she urged, "what mischief they may do, where theymay lead you, what their meaning is. Dear Barnaby, for my sake--"
"For your sake!" he cried, patting her hand. "Well! It IS for yoursake, mother. You remember what the blind man said, about thegold. Here"s a brave crowd! Come! Or wait till I come back--yes,yes, wait here."
She tried with all the earnestness her fears engendered, to turnhim from his purpose, but in vain. He was stooping down to buckleon his shoe, when a hackney-coach passed them rather quickly, and avoice inside called to the driver to stop.
"Young man," said a voice within.
"Who"s that?" cried Barnaby, looking up.
"Do you wear this ornament?" returned the stranger, holding out ablue cockade.
"In Heaven"s name, no. Pray do not give it him!" exclaimed thewidow.
"Speak for yourself, woman," said the man within the coach, coldly.
"Leave the young man to his choice; he"s old enough to make it, andto snap your apron-strings. He knows, without your telling,whether he wears the sign of a loyal Englishman or not."
Barnaby, trembling with impatience, cried, "Yes! yes, yes, I do,"
as he had cried a dozen times already. The man threw him acockade, and crying, "Make haste to St George"s Fields," orderedthe coachman to drive on fast; and left them.
With hands that trembled with his eagerness to fix the bauble inhis hat, Barnaby was adjusting it as he best could, and hurriedlyreplying to the tears and entreaties of his mother, when twogentlemen passed on the opposite side of the way. Observing them,and seeing how Barnaby was occupied, they stopped, whisperedtogether for an instant, turned back, and came over to them.
"Why are you sitting here?" said one of them, who was dressed in aplain suit of black, wore long lank hair, and carried a great cane.
"Why have you not gone with the rest?"
"I am going, sir," replied Barnaby, finishing his task, and puttinghis hat on with an air of pride. "I shall be there directly."
"Say "my lord," young man, when his lordship does you the honour ofspeaking to you," said the second gentleman mildly. "If you don"tknow Lord George Gordon when you see him, it"s high time youshould."
"Nay, Gashford," said Lord George, as Barnaby pulled off his hatagain and made him a low bow, "it"s no great matter on a day likethis, which every Englishman will remember with delight and pride.
Put on your hat, friend, and follow us, for you lag behind and arelate. It"s past ten now. Didn"t you know that the hour forassembling was ten o"clock?"
Barnaby shook his head and looked vacantly from one to the other.
