They, then, had thought of that dreadful engine of destruction--fire.

Had my terrors been true?
Our house--and perhaps John within it! On I ran, speeded by a dull murmur, which I fancied I heard; but still there was no one in the street--no one except the Abbey-watchman lounging in his box.

I roused him, and asked if all was safe ?--where were the rioters?
"What rioters ?" "At Abel Fletcher's mill; they may be at his house now--" "Ay, I think they be." "And will not one man in the town help him; no constables--no law ?" "Oh! he's a Quaker; the law don't help Quakers." That was the truth--the hard, grinding truth--in those days.

Liberty, justice, were idle names to Nonconformists of every kind; and all they knew of the glorious constitution of English law was when its iron hand was turned against them.
I had forgotten this; bitterly I remembered it now.

So wasting no more words, I flew along the church-yard, until I saw, shining against the boles of the chestnut-trees, a red light.