"She takes a deep interest in him," thought Constance.
The two clergymen, who were no other than Mr. Nichols and Mr. Lewthwaite, and who had stood aside during this discourse, now came forward, and were presented to Miss Rawcliffe.
The conversation then became general, and was proceeding pleasantly enough, when a very alarming sound put a sudden stop to it.
It was a fire-bell. And the clangour evidently came from the tower of the collegiate church.
The conversation instantly ceased, as we have said, and those who had been engaged in it glanced at each other uneasily.
"Heaven preserve us!" ejaculated Mr. Lewthwaite. "With how many plagues is this unfortunate town to be visited? Are we to have a conflagration in addition to the other calamities by which we are menaced?"
Meantime, the clangour increased in violence, and shouts of "Fire! fire!" resounded in all directions.
But the alarm of the party was considerably heightened when another fire-bell began to ring – this time close to them.
From the tower of St. Ann's Church the warning sounds now came – stunning and terrifying those who listened to them; and bringing forth many of the occupants of the houses in the square.
"It must be a great fire! – perhaps the work of an incendiary!" cried Mr. Nichols. "I will not attribute the mischief to Jacobite plotters, but I fear it will turn out that they are the instigators of it."
"It looks suspicious, I must own," remarked Mr. Lewthwaite.
"You have no warrant for these observations, gentlemen," said Jemmy, indignantly.
Still the fire-bells rang on with undiminished fury, and numbers of people were seen running across the square – shouting loudly as they hurried along.
"Where is the fire?" cried Beppy.
"It must be in the neighbourhood of the collegiate church," replied Mr. Lewthwaite. "All the houses are old in that quarter, and built of timber. Half the town will be consumed. That will be lamentable, but it will not be surprising, since the inhabitants have assuredly called down a judgment upon their heads from their propensity to rebellion."
Jemmy Dawson, who had great difficulty in controlling his anger, was about to make a sharp rejoinder to this speech, when a look from Monica checked him.
Just then several men ran past, and he hailed one of them, who stopped.
"Can you tell me where the fire is?" he asked.
"There be no fire, sir," replied the man, with a grin.
"No fire!" exclaimed Jemmy, astounded. "Why, then, are the fire-bells being rung thus loudly?"
"To collect a mob, if yo mun know," rejoined the man.
"For what purpose?" demanded Jemmy.
"Rebellion! rebellion! Can you doubt it?" said Mr. Lewthwaite.
"Ay, yo may ca' it rebellion an yo like, but this be the plain truth," said the man. "T' magistrates ha' just gi'en orders that Salford Bridge shan be blowed up to hinder t' Pretender, as yo ca' him, or t' prince, as we ca' him, fro' comin' into t' town, wi' his army. Now we Jacobites won't let the bridge be meddled with, so we han had the fire-bells rung to rouse the townsfolk."
"And you mean to resist the authorities?" cried Mr. Lewthwaite.
"Ay, that we do," rejoined the man, defiantly. "They shan't move a stone of the bridge."
"Beware what you do! You are rebelling against your lawful sovereign as represented by the magistrates. Forget not that rebellion provokes the Lord's anger, and will bring down his vengeance upon you."
"I canna bide to listen to a sarmon just now," rejoined the man, hurrying off.
"Can't we obtain a sight of what is going on at the bridge from the banks of the river?" said Constance.
"Yes, I will take you to a spot that commands a complete view of the bridge," rejoined Jemmy; "where you can see all that is to be seen, and yet not run the slightest risk."
"Shall we go, Monica?" said Constance.
"By all means," cried the other.
"I should like to make one of the party," said Beppy, who had just recollected that Tom Syddall's shop, where she knew Atherton had taken refuge, adjoined the bridge, and she thought it almost certain the young man would take part in this new disturbance.
"I advise you not to go, Miss Byrom," said Mr. Lewthwaite. "Neither Mr. Nichols nor myself can sanction such a lawless proceeding by our presence."
"As you please," said Beppy.
"Pray come with us, Miss Byrom," cried Jemmy. "I will engage that no harm shall befall you."
So they set off, leaving the two curates behind, both looking very much disconcerted.
CHAPTER XV.
HOW SALFORD HOUSE WAS SAVED FROM DESTRUCTION
By this time the fire-bells had ceased to ring, but the effect had been produced, and a great crowd, much more excited than that which had previously assembled in the market-place, was collected in the immediate neighbourhood of the bridge.
Salford Bridge, which must have been a couple of centuries old at the least, was strongly built of stone, and had several narrow-pointed arches, strengthened by enormous piers. These arches almost choked up the course of the river. Only a single carriage could cross the bridge at a time, but there were deep angular recesses in which foot-passengers could take refuge. It will be seen at once that such a structure could be stoutly defended against a force approaching from Salford, though it was commanded by the precipitous banks on the Manchester side. Moreover, the Irwell was here of considerable depth.
Before commencing operations, the magistrates, who were not without apprehension of a tumult, stopped all traffic across the bridge, and placed a strong guard at either extremity, to protect the workmen and engineers from any hindrance on the part of the populace.
A couple of large caissons, containing, it was supposed, a sufficient quantity of powder to overthrow the solid pier, had been sunk under the central arch of the bridge. Above the spot, in a boat, sat two engineers ready to fire the powder-chests when the signal should be given.
But the preparations had been watched by two daring individuals, who were determined to prevent them. One of these persons, who was no other than Tom Syddall, the Jacobite barber – a very active, resolute little fellow – ran up to the collegiate church, which was at no great distance from his shop, and soon found the man of whom he was in search – Isaac Clegg, the beadle.
Now Isaac being a Jacobite, like himself, was easily persuaded to ring the fire-bell; and the alarm being thus given, a mob was quickly raised. But no effectual opposition could be offered – the approach to the bridge from Smithy Bank being strongly barricaded. Behind the barricades stood the constables, who laughed at the mob, and set them at defiance.
"The boroughreeve will blow up the bridge in spite of you," they cried.
"If he does, he'll repent it," answered several angry voices from the crowd, which rapidly increased in number, and presented a very formidable appearance.
Already it had been joined by the desperadoes armed with bludgeons, who had figured in the previous disturbance in the market-place, and were quite ready for more mischief.
The usual Jacobite cries were heard, but these were now varied by "Down with the boroughreeve!" "Down with the constables!"
Mr. Fielden himself was on the bridge, with his brother magistrates, superintending the operations, and irritated by the insolent shouts of the mob, he came forward to address them.
For a few minutes they would not listen to him, but at last he obtained a hearing.
"Go home quietly," he cried, in a loud voice. "Go home like loyal and peaceful subjects of the king. We mean to destroy the bridge to prevent the entrance of the rebels."
On