There seemed for a moment a disposition among the mob to give up the contest, but there were others among them who were infuriated with drink, and so regardless of all consequences.  Those set up a shout of “Down with the red coats; we are Englishmen, and will do what we like.”  Some one then threw a heavy stone, which struck one of the soldiers, and brought blood from his cheek.  The officer saw it, but he said at once,—­

“Stand firm, now, stand firm.  No anger—­steady.”

“Twenty pounds for the man who threw that stone,” said the magistrate.—­“Twenty pound ten for old Adamson, the magistrate,” cried a voice in the crowd, which, no doubt came from him who had cast the missile.

Then, at least fifty stones were thrown, some of which hit the magistrate, and the remainder came rattling upon the helmets of the dragoons, like a hail shower.

“I warn you, and beg of you to go,” said Mr. Adamson; “for the sake of your wives and families, I beg of you not to pursue this desperate game.”

Loud cries now arose of “Down with the soldiers; down with the vampyre.  He’s in Bannerworth Hall.  Smoke him out.”  And then one or two links were hurled among the dismounted dragoons.  All this was put up with patiently; and then again the mob were implored to leave, which being answered by fresh taunts, the magistrate proceeded to read the riot act, not one word of which was audible amid the tumult that prevailed.

“Put out all the lights,” cried a voice among the mob.  The order was obeyed, and the same voice added; “they dare not fire on us.  Come on:”  and a rush was made at the garden wall.

“Make ready—­present,” cried the officer.  And then he added, in an under tone, “above their heads, now—­fire.”

There was a blaze of light for a moment, a stunning noise, a shout of dismay from the mob, and in another moment all was still.

“There,” said Dr. Chillingworth, “that this is, at all events, a bloodless victory.”

“You may depend upon that,” said his companion; “but is not there some one yet remaining?  Look there, do you not see a figure clambering over the fence?”

“Yes, I do, indeed.  Ah, they have him a prisoner, at all events.  Those two dragoons have him, fast enough; we shall now, perhaps, hear from this fellow who is the actual ringleader in such an affair, which, but for the pusillanimity of the mob, might have turned out to be really most disastrous.”

It was strange how one man should think it expedient to attack the military post after the mob had been so completely routed at the first discharge of fire-arms, but so it was.  One man did make an attempt to enter the garden, and it was so rapid and so desperate an one, that he rather seemed to throw himself bodily at the fence, which separated it from the meadows without, than to clamber over it, as any one under ordinary circumstances, who might wish to effect an entrance by that means, would have done.