On that same night--events so crowd upon each other in convulsed and distracted times, that more than the stirring incidents of a whole life often become compressed into the compass of four-and-twenty hours--on that same night, Mr Haredale, having strongly bound his prisoner, with the assistance of the sexton, and forced him to mount his horse, conducted him to Chigwell; bent upon procuring a conveyance to London from that place, and carrying him at once before a justice.

The disturbed state of the town would be, he knew, a sufficient reason for demanding the murderer's committal to prison before daybreak, as no man could answer for the security of any of the watch-houses or ordinary places of detention; and to convey a prisoner through the streets when the mob were again abroad, would not only be a task of great danger and hazard, but would be to challenge an attempt at rescue.

Directing the sexton to lead the horse, he walked close by the murderer's side, and in this order they reached the village about the middle of the night.
The people were all awake and up, for they were fearful of being burnt in their beds, and sought to comfort and assure each other by watching in company.

A few of the stoutest-hearted were armed and gathered in a body on the green.

To these, who knew him well, Mr Haredale addressed himself, briefly narrating what had happened, and beseeching them to aid in conveying the criminal to London before the dawn of day.
But not a man among them dared to help him by so much as the motion of a finger.