In fact, the scene was new and entertaining, and on the farther side
of the road, sheltered by the carriage, the party were entirely apart
from the throng, which was too much absorbed to notice them, only a
few heads turning at the rattling of the harness, and the ladies were
amused at the bright flame, and the dark figures glancing in and out
of the light, the shouts of delight and the merry faces.
'There's Guy Fawkes,' cried Albinia, as a procession of scarecrows
were home on chairs amid thunders of acclamation; 'but whom have they
besides? Here are some new characters.'
'Most lugubrious looking,' said Genevieve. 'I cannot make out the
shouts.'
'It is the Nabob,' said Mr. Kendal. 'Perhaps you do not know that is
my alias. This is my execution.'
The carpenter implored them to come in, and Mr. Hope added his
entreaties, but Mr. Kendal would not leave the horses, and the ladies
would not leave him; and they all stood still while his effigy was
paraded round the knoll, the mark of every squib, the object of every
invective that the rabble could roar out at the top of their voices.
Jesuits and Papists; Englishmen treated like blackamoor slaves in the
Indies; honest folk driven out of house and home; such was the
burthen of the cries that assailed the grim representative carried
aloft, while the real man stood unmoved as a statue, his tall,
powerful figure unstirred, his long driving-whip resting against his
shoulder without betraying the slightest motion, neither firm lip nor
steady eye changing.
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