“Hilloa! a friend,—­a friend here, in the summer-house!”

“Make it two friends,” cried the hangman, “if you please, while you are about it.”

A couple of the dragoons immediately appeared, and the doctor, with his companion, were marched, as prisoners, before the officer in command.

“What do you do here?” he said; “I was informed that the Hall was deserted.  Here, orderly, where is Mr. Adamson, the magistrate, who came with me?”—­“Close at hand sir, and he says he’s not well.”

“Well, or ill, he must come here, and do something with these people.”

A magistrate of the district who had accompanied the troops, and been accommodated with a seat behind one of the dragoons, which seemed very much to have disagreed with him, for he was as pale as death, now stepped forward.

“You know me, Mr. Adamson?” said the doctor; “I am Mr. Chillingworth.”—­“Oh! yes; Lord bless you! how came you here?”

“Never mind that just now; you can vouch for my having no connection with the rioters.”—­“Oh! dear, yes; certainly.  This is a respectable gentleman, Captain Richardson, and a personal friend of mine.”

“Oh! very good.”—­“And I,” said the doctor’s companion, “am likewise a respectable and useful member of society, and a great friend of Mr. Chillingworth.”

“Well, gentlemen,” said the captain in command, “you may remain here, if you like, and take the chances, or you may leave.”

They intimated that they preferred remaining, and, almost at the moment that they did so, a loud shout from many throats announced the near approach of the mob.—­“Now, Mr. Magistrate, if you please,” said the officer; “you will be so good as to tell the mob that I am here with my troop, under your orders, and strongly advise them to be off while they can, with whole skins, for if they persevere in attacking the place, we must persevere in defending it; and, if they have half a grain of sense among them, they can surely guess what the result of that will be.”

“I will do the best I can, as Heaven is, my judge,” said the magistrate, “to produce a peaceable recall,—­more no man can do.”

“Hurrah! hurrah!"’ shouted the mob, “down with the Vampyre! down with the Hall!” and then one, more candid than his fellows, shouted,—­“Down with everything and everybody!”

“Ah!” remarked the officer; “that fellow now knows what he came about.”

A great number of torches and links were lighted by the mob, but the moment the glare of light fell upon the helmets and accoutrements of the military, there was a pause of consternation on the part of the multitude, and Mr. Adamson, urged on by the officer, who, it was evident, by no means liked the service he was on, took advantage of the opportunity, and, stepping forward, he said,—­

“My good people, and fellow townsmen, let me implore you to listen to reason, and go to your homes in peace.  If you do not, but, on the contrary, in defiance of law and good order, persist in attacking this house, it will become my painful duty to read the riot act, and then the military and you will have to fight it out together, which I beg you will avoid, for you know that some of you will be killed, and a lot more of you receive painful wounds.  Now disperse, let me beg of you, at once.”