The River of Death | Page 8

the Speaker back behind the chair, they overturned
the table and scattered books and papers in all directions. The foreign
element in the company started singing the Marsellaise in strident tones.
The martial spirit of it fired the blood of the others.
"We are wasting time here," someone cried. "There are bars and
dining-rooms. As we came in I heard the rattle of glasses. This way."
The crowd reeled back as if one motion controlled them all. There was
still the same note of laughter in the roar and all might have been well
yet, but for the advent of a small, but determined body of police. They
charged fiercely into the mob, and in the twinkling of an eye farces
gave way to tragedy.
In less time than it takes to tell the police were beaten back with one or

two of their number badly hurt, whilst the forefront of the visitors had
not come off any better. The popular chamber had become a wreck;
outside in the lobby broken furniture was scattered about everywhere.
Then the tide of humanity surged into the bars and dining-rooms. A
few frightened attendants and waiters still stuck to their posts. The sight
of the glasses and bottles of water about seemed to madden the mob.
They demanded that all the taps should be turned on, the fittings were
wrenched away amidst a perfect tornado of applause, soon the floors
were swimming with the element that all London was clamouring for
outside.
The rooms were strewn with broken glass and china, the floors were
damp and soppy with the wasted water. Here and there men were
feasting on looted food. Never had anything like this been seen in any
parliament before. A few courageous members vainly trying to stop the
din wondered where were the police.
But they were coming. They did come presently, two hundred of them,
steady, stern, and disciplined, and before them the rioters fled like chaff,
before the wind. Five more minutes and the House was cleared. But the
damage was great.
Outside a dense mass of people had gathered, attracted by the news of
the riot. They were in no mood to take the side of law and order and it
was with great difficulty that the ring-leaders of the late affray were got
away safely. A thin high voice a long way off in the back of the crowd
was shouting something which seemed to at once arrest attention. A
sullen murmur came up to Palace Yard. The loose jeers of the mob
ceased as if by magic.
"What are they saying?" an Irish member asked.
"I can't quite catch it," another member said, "but it's something about
water in Trafalgar Square. I shouldn't wonder if--
Just for an instant the roar broke out again. There was a note of fear in
it this time. The babel of voices yelled one against the other. Gradually

it was possible to make something out of it.
"By Jove, it's as I feared," the Irish member said. "The spring under the
Trafalgar Square fountain has given out. It's a public calamity. See,
they are all off. No more row to-night."
The great crowd was melting away with marvellous rapidity. Each man
there wanted to verify this new disaster for himself. The mob streamed
along towards the Square as if life and death hung in the balance. If
fortune had lain there they could not have fought or struggled harder. In
the heat and the strife many fell by the way, but they lay there
unheeded.
The cool fountain no longer played. People who had come from afar
with vessels for the precious fluid cast them on the ground passionately
and cursed aloud. The disaster was so great, it appeared so
overwhelming that the cruel mood of the mob was held in check for the
time. Taking advantage, the police shepherded the mob here and there
until comparative quiet was restored. Dr. Longdale, on his way home,
paused to contemplate the scene.
"`Blucher or night,'" he murmured, "Darbyshire or morning, rather. I'd
give my practice to have a few words with Darbyshire now. I'll just call
at the Charing Cross Hospital and see how he is."
It was comparatively quiet in the Strand by this time. Four or five
stalwart constables stood on the steps of the hospital as a safe-guard,
for there was no lack of water there. A house-surgeon came hurrying
out.
"I am very glad to see you," he said. "I was just going to send for you.
Dr. Darby-"
"Good heaven, you don't mean to say he is worse!"
"On the contrary, much better; quite sensible, in fact; and he declines to
think about sleep until he has seen you."

V.
IF the-sweltering heat that hung over London added in