Greedily listening to this insane counsel, the mob resolved to act upon it.  Headed by the merchant, they ran down Thread-needle-street, and, crossing Stock’s Market, burst open several houses in Bearbinder-lane, and drove away the watchmen.  One man, more courageous than the others, tried to maintain his post, and was so severely handled by his assailants, that he died a few days afterwards of the injuries he had received.  Most of those who had been imprisoned within their dwellings immediately issued forth, and joining the mob, which received fresh recruits each moment, started on the same errand.

Loud shouts were now raised of—­“Open the doors!  No plague prisoners!  No plague prisoners!” and the mob set off along the Poultry.  They halted, however, before the Great Conduit, near the end of Bucklersbury, and opposite Mercer’s Hall, because they perceived a company of the Train-bands advancing to meet them.  A council of war was held, and many of the rabble were disposed to fly; but Barcroft again urged them to proceed, and they were unexpectedly added by Solomon Eagle, who, bursting through their ranks, with his brazier on his head, crying, “Awake! sleepers, awake! the plague is at your doors! awake!” speeded towards the Train-bands, scattering sparks of fire as he pursued his swift career.  The mob instantly followed, and, adding their shouts to his outcries, dashed on with such fury that the Train-bands did not dare to oppose them, and, after a slight and ineffectual resistance, were put to rout.

Barcroft, who acted as leader, informed them that there was a house in Wood-street shut up, and the crowd accompanied him thither.  In a few minutes they had reached Bloundel’s shop, but finding no one on guard—­for the watchman, guessing their errand, had taken to his heels—­they smeared over the fatal cross and inscription with a pail of mud gathered from the neighbouring kennel, and then broke open the door.  The grocer and his apprentice hearing the disturbance, and being greatly alarmed at it, hurried to the shop, and found it full of people.

“You are at liberty Mr. Bloundel,” cried the merchant, who was acquainted with the grocer.  “We are determined no longer to let our families be imprisoned at the pleasure of the Lord Mayor and aldermen.  We mean to break open all the plague houses, and set free their inmates.”

“For Heaven’s sake, consider what you are about, Mr. Barcroft,” cried the grocer.  “My house has been closed for nearly a month.  Nay, as my son has entirely recovered, and received his certificate of health from Doctor Hodges, it would have been opened in three days hence by the officers; so that I have suffered all the inconvenience of the confinement, and can speak to it.  It is no doubt very irksome, and may be almost intolerable to persons of an impatient temperament:  but I firmly believe it is the only means to check the progress of contagion.  Listen to me, Mr. Barcroft—­listen to me, good friends, and hesitate before you violate laws which have been made expressly to meet this terrible emergency.”