The mob now directed their attention to Newgate; and, from their threats, appeared determined to fire it. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. She walked through the walls. You had better go to bed. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it.
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