Callow youths, hooligans, round-shouldered slouchers
at the best, made shift to lift their heads and keep step. And the
torrent caught the human flotsam of the pavement in its onward swirl.
If Royson had not utilized that clear space lower down the street, it
would have demanded the exercise of sheer force to reach the van of the
dense gathering of nondescripts now following the drum.
Nevertheless, a clearance was made, and speedily, with the startling
suddenness of a summer whirlwind. A pair of horses, attached to an open
carriage, were drawn up in a by-street until the Guards had passed. So
far as Royson was concerned, they were on the opposite side of the
road, with their heads towards him. But he happened to be looking that
way, because his old-time companion, the Hon. John Paton Seymour, was
in the direct line of sight, and his unusual stature enabled him to see
that both horses reared simultaneously. They took the coachman by
surprise, and their downward plunge dragged him headlong from the box.
Instantly there was a panic among the mob.
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