'Where has he been all day?
What did he mean by leaving me as he did, in the jail, last night?
Tell me, you--d'ye hear!' With a flourish of his dangerous weapon, he fell down upon the ground like a log.

After a minute, though already frantic with drinking and with the wound in his head, he crawled to a stream of burning spirit which was pouring down the kennel, and began to drink at it as if it were a brook of water.
Barnaby drew him away, and forced him to rise.

Though he could neither stand nor walk, he involuntarily staggered to his horse, climbed upon his back, and clung there.

After vainly attempting to divest the animal of his clanking trappings, Barnaby sprung up behind him, snatched the bridle, turned into Leather Lane, which was close at hand, and urged the frightened horse into a heavy trot.
He looked back, once, before he left the street; and looked upon a sight not easily to be erased, even from his remembrance, so long as he had life.
The vintner's house with a half-a-dozen others near at hand, was one great, glowing blaze.

All night, no one had essayed to quench the flames, or stop their progress; but now a body of soldiers were actively engaged in pulling down two old wooden houses, which were every moment in danger of taking fire, and which could scarcely fail, if they were left to burn, to extend the conflagration immensely.