aim. The rioters were too far
off--our spiked iron railings, eight feet high or more, being a barrier
which none had yet ventured to climb. But at length one random stone
hit John on the chest.

I pulled him in, but he declared he was not hurt. Terrified, I
implored him not to risk his life.

"Life is not always the first thing to be thought of," said he, gently.
"Don't be afraid--I shall come to no harm. But I MUST do what I think
right, if it is to be done."

While he spoke, I could hardly hear him for the bellowings outside.
More savage still grew the cry--

"Burn 'em out! burn 'em out! They be only Quakers!"

"There's not a minute to lose--stop--let me think--Jael, is that a
pistol?"

"Loaded," she said, handing it over to him with a kind of stern
delight. Certainly, Jael was not meant to be a Friend.

John ran down-stairs, and before I guessed his purpose, had unbolted
the hall-door, and stood on the flight of steps, in full view of the
mob.

There was no bringing him back, so of course I followed. A pillar
sheltered me--I do not think he saw me, though I stood close behind him.

So sudden had been his act, that even the rioters did not seem to have
noticed, or clearly understood it, till the next lighted torch showed
them the young man standing there, with his back to the door--OUTSIDE
the door.

The sight fairly confounded them. Even I felt that for the moment he
was safe. They were awed--nay, paralyzed, by his daring.

But the storm raged too fiercely to be lulled, except for one brief
minute. A confusion of voices burst out afresh--

"Who be thee?"--"It's one o' the Quakers."--"No, he bean't."--"Burn
'un, anyhow."--"Touch 'un, if ye dare."

There was evidently a division arising. One big man, who had made
himself very prominent all along, seemed trying to calm the tumult.

John stood his ground. Once a torch was flung at him--he stooped and
picked it up. I thought he was going to hurl it back again, but he did
not; he only threw it down, and stamped it out safely with his foot.
This simple action had a wonderful effect on the crowd.

The big fellow advanced to the gate and called John by his name.

"Is that you, Jacob Baines? I am sorry to see you here."

"Be ye, sir."

"What do you want?"

"Nought wi' thee. We wants Abel Fletcher. Where is 'um?"

"I shall certainly not tell you."

As John said this again the noise arose, and again Jacob Baines seemed
to have power to