Riot and Imprisonment_

At last my poems were printed and published, and I enjoyed the sensation
of being a real live author. What was more, my book "took" and sold, and
was reviewed favourably in journals and newspapers.

It struck me that it would be right to call upon the dean, and so I went
to his house off Harley Street. The good old man congratulated me on my
success, and I saw Lillian, and sat in a delirium of silent joy. Lord
Lynedale had become Lord Ellerton, and I listened to the praises that
were sung of the newly married couple--for Eleanor had become Lady
Ellerton, and had entered fully into all her husband's magnificent
philanthropic schemes--a helpmeet, if not an oracular guide.

After this, I had an invitation to tea in Lillian's own hand, and then
came terrible news that Lord Ellerton had been killed by a fall from his
horse, and that the dean and Miss Winnstay had left London; and for
three years I saw them no more.

What happened in those three years?

Mackaye had warned me not to follow after vanity. He was a Chartist, and
with him and Crossthwaite, my old fellow-workman, I was vowed to the
Good Cause of the Charter. Now I found that I had fallen under
suspicion.

"Can you wonder if our friends suspect you?" said Crossthwaite. "Can you
deny that you've been off and on lately between flunkeydom and the
Cause, like a donkey between two bundles of hay? Have you not neglected
our meetings? Have you not picked all the spice out of your poems?
Though Sandy is too kind-hearted to tell you, you have disappointed us
both miserably, and there's the long and short of it."

I hid my face in my hands. My conscience told me that I had nothing to
answer.

Mackaye, to spare me, went on to talk of the agricultural distress, and
Crossthwaite explained that he wanted to send a deputation down to the
country to spread the principles of the Charter.

"I will go," I said, starting up. "They shall see I do care for the
Cause. Where is the place?"

"About ten miles from D----."

"D----!" My heart sank. If it had been any other spot! But it was too
late to retract.

With many instructions from our friends and warnings from Mackaye, I
started next day on my journey. I arrived in the midst of a dreary,
treeless country, and a little pert, snub-nosed shoemaker met me, and we
walked together across the open down towards a circular camp, the
earthwork, probably, of some old British town.

Inside it, some thousa