DEATH TO THE FLEMINGS!
That morning Aline had gone early to the city at the invitation of
Mistress Gaiton to spend the day with Ursula, under the escort of her
brother and Edgar. They were to have fetched her before dusk, but early
in the afternoon Richard Gaiton himself brought her back.
"I am sorry to bring your daughter back so early," he said to Dame
Agatha, "but I had news that after the king turned back this morning,
the leaders of the rebels have been haranguing them, telling them that
it was clearly useless to put any trust in promises, or to hope that
redress could be obtained from the king, who was surrounded by evil
councillors, and that, since they would not allow him to trust himself
among the people, the people must take the matter into their own hands.
They had remained quiet long enough; now was the time that they should
show their strength. The rabble shouted loudly, 'Let us to London!
Death to the council! Death to the rich!' and having gathered under
their leaders, they started to march for Southwark. As there is no
saying what may come of the matter, methought that it were best to
bring the young lady back again."
"I thank you," Dame Agatha said; "'tis indeed better that we should be
together. This morning my lord was saying that if these knaves marched
upon London, he had decided that we should move into the Tower."
"It were indeed best, madam. There is no saying what may happen when
these fellows become inflamed with wine and begin to taste the sweets
of plunder. We ourselves feel ashamed that we are not in a position to
march out with the city force, and to maintain the law against this
rabble; but it is clear to us that the majority are on the other side.
They have taken into their heads that if these fellows gain rights and
privileges for themselves, the city may also gain fresh rights. Many of
the serving-men, the craftsmen, and even the apprentices have friends
and relations among these people, for most of them belong to the
counties round London.
"There are others better placed who not only sympathize, as I myself
do, with the natural desire of the country people to be free from
serfdom, but who favour the cause because they think that were all the
people free to carry arms it would check the power both of the king and
nobles. So it comes that the city is divided in itself; and in this
strait, when all should show a front against rebellion, we are
powerless to do aught. Even among those who talk the loudest against
the rabble, there are many, I fear, who send them secret encouragement,
and this not because they care aught for their grievances, but because
the people are set against the Flemings, who are ill-liked by many of
the merchants as being rivals in trade, and who have in their hands the
greater portion of the dealings, both with Flanders and the Low
Country; and indeed, though I see that in the long run we shall benefit
greatly by this foreign trade, I quite perceive that the privileges
that our king has given to the Flemings in order to win their good-will
and assistance against France, do for the present cause disadvantage
and harm to many of the traders of London."
"'Tis a troubled time," Dame Agatha said, "and 'tis hard to see what is
for the best. However, in the Tower assuredly we shall be safe."
"I hope so," the merchant said, gravely.
"Surely you cannot doubt it, Master Gaiton?" Dame Agatha said in
surprise.
"I hear that the rabble are openly saying that the men-at-arms and
archers will not act against them. It maybe but empty boasting, but
there may be something in it. The men are almost all enlisted from
Kent, Sussex, Essex, and Hertford, and I have heard report that there
is sore discontent among them because their pay is greatly in arrear,
owing to the extravagance of the Court. It were well, perhaps, that you
should mention this to Sir Ralph, and, above all, I pray you to
remember, madam, that so long as my house stands, so long will it be a
refuge to which you and yours may betake yourselves in case of danger
here. I say not that it is safer than elsewhere, for there is no saying
against whom the rage of the rabble may be directed."
Sir Ralph came home late in the afternoon. He was gloomy and depressed.
"Things are going but badly, wife," he said. "Verily, were it not for
the duty I owe to the king, we would take horse and ride to Kingston,
and there cross the river and journey round so as to avoid these
fellows, and get to our home and wait there and see what comes of this,
and should they attack us, fight to the end. It seems to me that all
have lost their heads--one gives one counsel, and one gives another.
Never did I see such faint hearts. The lord mayor has been with the
king. He speaks bravely as far as he himself and the better class of
citizens are concerned, but they are overborne by the commonalty, who
favour the rabble partly because they hope to gain by the disorder, and
partly because the leaders of the rabble declare that they will slay
all the council, and, above all, the Duke of Lancaster, against whom
many in the city, as well as in the country, have a deep grudge."
"What counsel did you give, husband?"
"I asked the king to give me the command of half the men-at-arms and
archers, and that I would march them through the city across London
Bridge, close the gates there, and defend them alike against the rabble
on the farther side and that of the city until help could be gathered.
The king himself was willing that this should be so, but the council
said that were I to do this, the gatherings from Essex, Hertford,
Suffolk, and Cambridge would march hither and be joined by the rabble
of the city, and so attack the Tower, being all the more furious at
what they would deem a breach of their privileges by my taking
possession of the gates; and so nothing was done. Have you looked out
of the windows across the river? If not, do so."
Lady Agatha crossed the room and gazed out. From several points in
Southwark columns of smoke mingled with flames were ascending.
"What is it, Ralph?"
"It is the rabble, who are plundering Southwark, and, as I hear, have
broke open the prisons of the Marshalsea and King's Bench. The
malefactors there have joined them; and this has been done without a
stroke being smitten in defence. Where are the boys?"
"They went into the city with Aline this morning, and have not
returned. Ah! here they are coming through the gate."
"Well, Albert, what news have you?" Sir Ralph asked his son as they
entered.
"The city is in an uproar, father; most of the shops have closed. There
are gatherings in the streets, and though the lord mayor and Robert
Gaiton and many of the better class have been haranguing them, they
refuse to disperse to their homes. Robert Gaiton took us into the
Guildhall, where many of the most worshipful citizens were assembled,
discussing the matter and what is to be done, but they have no force at
their command. The Flemings are in great fear. Some have betaken
themselves to the churches, where they hope that their lives may be
respected, but without, as it seems to me, any good warrant; for, as
the rabble at Canterbury did not respect even the cathedral, it is not
likely that they will hold churches here as sanctuary. Robert Gaiton
advised us that if we entered the city to-morrow we should not show
ourselves in our present apparel, for he says that if the rabble enter,
they may fall foul of any whose dresses would show them to belong to
the Court, and he has given us two sober citizen suits, in which he
said we should be able to move about without fear of molestation."
"Things have come to a nice pass, indeed," Sir Ralph grumbled, "when
the son of a knight cannot walk with safety in the streets of London.
Still, Gaiton is doubtless right."
"You will not let the boys enter the city surely, Sir Ralph?" Dame
Agatha said, anxiously.
"I do not say so, dame. The lads are going to be soldiers, and it were
well that they became used to scenes of tumult. Moreover, they may
bring us news of what is doing there that may help us. I have obtained
the use of a chamber in the Tower for you and Aline. My place, of
course, will be by the king's side; and maybe the reports that the boys
will bring us of the doings in the city may be useful. Is it your wish,
lads, to go into the city?"
"With your permission, sir, we would gladly do so. There will be much
to see, and, it may be, to learn."
"That is so. Above all, take to heart the lesson that it is dangerous
to grant aught to force; and that if the rabble be suffered to become,
even for an hour, the masters, they will soon become as wild beasts. It
was so in France, and it will be so wherever, by the weakness of the
authorities, the mob is allowed to raise its head and to deem itself
master of everything. All this evil has been brought about by the
cowardice of the garrison of Rochester Castle. Had they done their duty
they could have defended the place for weeks against those knaves, even
if not strong enough to have sallied out and defeated them in the open,
but the fellows seem to have inspired everyone with terror; and in
faith, whatever befalls, it will be mainly the fault of those who
should at the first outbreak have gathered themselves together to make
a stand against this unarmed rabble, for it might at that time have
been crushed by a single charge.
"I take blame to myself now, that instead of summoning you hither, I
did not hasten home as soon as I heard of the doings at Dartford,
gather a score of my neighbours with their retainers, and give battle
to the mob. There were comparatively few at that time, and they had not
gained confidence in themselves. And even if we had deemed them too
strong to attack in the field, we might have thrown ourselves into
Rochester and aided the garrison to hold the castle. I have seen
troubles in Flanders, and have learnt how formidable the mob may become
when it has once tasted blood; and it is well that you should both
learn that, even when the commonalty have just grounds for complaint,
they must not be allowed to threaten the security of the realm by armed
rebellion.
"Would that the Black Prince were here instead of the Boy King, we
should then have very different measures taken. Even if the king's
mother had spirit and courage, the counsels of those men who surround
the king would be overborne; but she was so alarmed, as she well might
be, at her meeting with the rabble on Blackheath, that the spirit she
once had seems to have quite departed, and she is all in favour of
granting them what they will."
Later on Sir Ralph again went to the Tower and shortly returned. "Put
on your cloaks and hoods at once," he said to his wife. "The Essex and
Hertford men have arrived on the north side of the city and may be here
in the morning, and it will be then too late to retire to the Tower. I
will give you a quarter of an hour to pack up your belongings. The men
will carry them for you. As to you, boys, you can safely remain here
until daybreak, then put on your citizen dresses and make your way
quietly into the city, as soon as the gates are open. Put them over
your own clothes. I charge you to take no part in any street fray; but
if the better class of citizens make a stand, throw off your citizen
clothes and join them and strike for the king and country, for
assuredly England would be ruined were the rabble to have their way."
In a quarter of an hour the ladies were ready; and their Court suits
and those of Albert and Edgar had been packed. The men-at-arms took up
the valises, and, followed by them, Sir Ralph, his wife, and daughter
made for the Tower.
In the morning as soon as they knew that the gates would be open the
two boys attired themselves in the citizen suits, and, buckling on
their swords, left the house. As soon as they entered the city they
found that the streets were already filled with people. It was Corpus
Christi, at that time kept as a general holiday, and, regardless of the
troubles, many were flocking out to enjoy a holiday in the country. The
boys had debated whether they should first go to the merchant's, but
they agreed not to do so, as he would probably be in consultation with
the authorities, and would be fully occupied without having them to
attend to.
As they advanced farther it was easy to see that there was another
element besides that of the holiday-makers abroad. Bands of men
carrying heavy staves, and many of them with swords at their belts,
were hurrying in the direction of the bridge, and Edgar and Albert took
the same direction. The bridge itself was crowded, partly with
holiday-makers and partly with armed men, while the windows of the
houses were occupied by spectators, who were looking down with evident
apprehension at what was about to take place. Gradually making their
way forward the two friends reached the other end. Here there was a
group of citizens on horseback. Among them was the lord mayor, William
Walworth, and many of the aldermen, Robert Gaiton among them. The mob
were shouting, "Open the gates!" The uproar was great, but on the mayor
holding up his hand there was silence.
"Fellow-citizens," he said, "know ye not what has been done by these
men at Southwark? Not content with plundering and ill-treating the
inhabitants, breaking open the cellars and besotting themselves with
liquor, they have opened the doors of the prisons, and have been joined
by the malefactors held there. Assuredly if they enter the city they
will behave in like manner here; therefore the gates cannot be opened."
A man stepped forward from the mob and replied:
"It has always been the custom for the gates to be opened, and for the
citizens to go out to the fields to enjoy themselves on a holiday, and
we will have it so now whether you like it or not."
Then the uproar was renewed, swords and staves were raised menacingly,
and cries raised of "Death to the lord mayor!" "Death to all who would
interfere with our liberties!" The mayor took counsel with those around
him. It was manifestly impossible that some twenty or thirty men could
successfully oppose an infuriated mob, and it was certain that they
would all lose their lives were they to do so, and that without avail.
Accordingly the mayor again held up his hand for silence, and said:
"We cannot oppose your will, seeing that you are many and that we are
few; therefore, if you wish it, we must open the gates, but many of you
will regret ere many days have passed the part that you have taken in
this matter."
So saying, he and those with him drew aside. With a shout of triumph
the mob rushed to the gates, removed the bars and opened them, and then
poured out, shouting and cheering, into Southwark.
While the dispute had been going on the two friends had quietly made
their way almost to the front line.
"What had we best do, Edgar?"
"We had best keep quiet," the latter said; "this is but a street broil,
against which your father charged us to take no part. It would not be a
fight, but a massacre. Had these gentlemen been in armour, they might
have sold their lives dearly, and perchance have fought their way
through, but seeing that they have but on their civic gowns they can
make no effectual resistance."
As soon as the gates were open they stood back in a doorway until the
first rush of the crowd had ceased; then they followed the horsemen
across the bridge again, and took their stand at the end of Gracechurch
Street to see what would follow. In a short time they saw the
holiday-makers come pouring back over the bridge in evident terror, and
close on their heels were a great mob. At their head, on horseback,
rode Wat Tyler and three or four other leaders. Behind them followed a
disorderly crowd, brandishing their weapons. Many of these were drunk,
their clothes being stained deeply by the wine from the casks they had
broached. Among them were many of the men who had been released from
prison.
As they poured over the bridge, some broke off from the column and
began to harangue the citizens, saying that these had as much to
complain of as they had, seeing how they were taxed for the
extravagancies of the Court and the expense of foreign wars, and that
now was the time for all honest men to rise against their oppressors.
Many of the lower class joined their ranks. None ventured to enter into
dispute with them. Some of the mob were dressed in ecclesiastical robes
which they had taken from the churches. These as they went shouted
blasphemous parodies on the mass. The leaders evidently had a fixed
purpose in their minds, for upon reaching Cheapside they turned west.
"It is sad to think that these fellows should disgrace the cause for
which they took up arms," Edgar said to his companion. "They had
grounds for complaint when they first rose. I then felt some sympathy
for them, but now they are intoxicated with their success. Look at Wat
the Tyler. I believed he was an honest workman, and, as all said, a
clever one. I do not blame him that in his wrath he slew the man who
had insulted his daughter; but look at him now--he rides as if he were
a king. He is puffed up with his own importance, and looks round upon
the citizens as if he were their lord and master. He has stolen some
armour on his way, and deems that he cuts a knightly figure. Let us go
by the quiet streets and see what is their object."
The whole of the rioters moved down Cheapside by St. Paul's, and then
to the Temple. So far they offered no wrong to anyone. They sallied out
through the gates and continued on their way until they reached the
Savoy, the splendid palace of the Duke of Lancaster, which was said to
be the fairest and most richly furnished of any in the kingdom. With
shouts of triumph they broke into it and scattered through the rooms,
smashing the furniture and destroying everything they could lay hands
upon. Some made for the cellars, where they speedily intoxicated
themselves. Loud shouts were raised that nothing was to be taken. The
silver vessels and jewels were smashed, and then carried down to the
Thames and thrown into it.
In a short time flames burst out in several parts of the palace. One
man was noticed by another as he thrust a silver cup into his dress. He
was at once denounced and seized, and was without further ado hurled
into the flames.
The fire spread rapidly. The crowd surrounded the palace, shouting,
yelling, and dancing in their triumph over the destruction that they
had wrought. Upwards of thirty of the drunkards were unable to escape,
and were imprisoned in the cellars. Their shouts for help were heard
for seven days, but none came to their assistance, for the ruins of the
house had fallen over them, and they all perished. Thence the crowd
went to the Temple, where they burnt all the houses occupied by
lawyers, with all their books and documents, and then proceeded to the
house of the Knights of St. John, a splendid building but lately
erected. This also they fired, and so great was its extent that it
burned for seven days.
The next morning twenty thousand of them marched to Highbury, the great
manor-house of which belonged to the Order of St. John, and this and
the buildings around it were all destroyed by fire.
After seeing the destruction of the Temple, Edgar and Albert went back
to Cheapside. The streets were almost deserted. The better class of
citizens had all shut themselves up in their houses and every door was
closed. On knocking at the door of the mercer the two friends were
admitted. The alderman had just returned from a gathering of the city
authorities. They told him what they had witnessed.
"It passes all bounds," he said, "and yet there is naught that we can
do to put a stop to it. For myself I have counselled that proclamation
shall be made that all honest citizens shall gather, with arms in their
hands, at the Guildhall, and that we should beg the king to give us
some assistance in men-at-arms and archers, and that we should then
give battle to the rabble. But I found few of my opinion. All were
thinking of the safety of their families and goods, and said that were
we defeated, as we well might be, seeing how great are their numbers,
they would pillage and slay as they chose. Whereas, if we give them no
pretence for molesting us, it might be that they would do no harm to
private persons, but would content themselves with carrying out their
original designs of obtaining a charter from the king.
"In faith it is cowardly counsel, and yet, as with the forces from the
north and south there must be fully two hundred thousand rebels, I own
that there is some reason in such advice. If the king with his knights
and nobles and his garrison at the Tower would but sally out and set us
an example, be sure that he would be joined by the law-abiding
citizens, but as he doeth naught in this strait, I see not that
peaceful citizens are called upon to take the whole brunt of it upon
their own shoulders. However, I have little hope that the rioters will
content themselves with destroying palaces and attacking lawyers. What
you tell me of the execution of one of their number, who stole a silver
cup, shows that the bulk of them are at present really desirous only of
redress of grievances, but they will soon pass beyond this. The
jail-birds will set an example of plunder and murder, and unless help
comes before long, all London will be sacked. My men and apprentices
are already engaged in carrying down to the cellars all my richest
wares. The approach is by a trap-door, with a great stone over it in
the yard, and it will, I hope, escape their search.
"Of one thing you may be sure, that as soon as the king shows himself,
and it is seen that he is in danger, there will be no hanging back, but
we shall join him with what force we can. I think not that he can have
aid from without, for we hear that the country people have everywhere
risen, and that from Winchester in the south, to Scarborough in the
north, they have taken up arms, and that the nobles are everywhere shut
up in their castles, so they, being cut off from each other, are in no
position to gather a force that could bring aid to the king. You can
tell your good father what I say, and that all depends upon the
attitude of the king. If he comes to us with his knights and men we
will join him; if he comes not, and we learn that he is in danger, we
will do what we can, but that must depend much upon how the rebels
comport themselves."
The two lads went to the Tower, but the gates were closed and the
drawbridge pulled up, and they therefore returned to their lodging,
where they passed the night. On the following day they returned into
the city; there the rioters had already began their work. Thirty
Flemings, who had taken refuge in the churches, were dragged from the
altar and were beheaded, thirty-two others were seized in the vintry
and also slain. Then parties broke into all the houses where the
Flemings lived, and such as had not fled in disguise were killed, and
their houses pillaged. All through the day the streets were in an
uproar. Every man the rebels met was seized and questioned.
"Who are you for?" Such as answered "The king and commons" were allowed
to go unmolested, others were killed. The two friends had several
narrow escapes. Fortunately Edgar had learned the watchword at Dartford
and readily replied, and they were allowed to pass on. They were
traversing Bread Street when they heard a scream behind them, and a
girl came flying along, pursued by a large number of the rioters,
headed by a man in the dress of a clerk. She reached the door of a
handsome house close to them, but before she could open it the leader
of the party ran up and roughly seized her. Edgar struck him a buffet
on the face which sent him reeling backwards.
With shouts of fury the crowd rushed up just as the door opened. Edgar
and Albert stepped back into the doorway, while the girl ran upstairs.
"How, now, my masters," Edgar said as he drew his sword, "is this the
way to secure your rights and liberties, by attacking women in the
streets? Shame on you! Do you call yourselves Englishmen?"
"They are Flemings!" the man whom Edgar had struck shouted out.
"Well, sir, I should say that you were a Fleming yourself, by your
speech," Edgar said.
"I am but a clerk," the man said. "He who lives here is one of the
Flemings who bought the taxes, and has been grinding down the people,
of whom I am one."
"The people must be badly off, indeed," Edgar said, contemptuously, "if
they need to have such a cur as you on their side."
But his words were drowned by the furious shouts of the crowd, "Death
to the Flemings!" and a rush was made at the door, headed by the clerk,
who struck savagely at Edgar. The latter parried the stroke, and thrust
the man through the throat. With a yell of rage the crowd now strove
furiously to enter, but the position of the two lads standing back a
couple of feet from the entrance rendered it impossible for more than
two or three to attack them at once, and the clubs and rough weapons
were no match for the swords. Nevertheless, although five or six of
their opponents fell, the weight of numbers pressed the friends back to
the staircase, where they again made a stand.
For five minutes the conflict raged. The boys had both received several
blows, for the weight of the heavy weapons sometimes beat down their
guard; but they still fought on, retiring a step or two up the stair
when hardly pressed, and occasionally making dashes down upon their
assailants, slaying the foremost, and hurling the others backwards.
Presently the girl ran down again to them.
"All are in safety," she said. "Run upstairs when you can. Where you
see me standing at a door run in and lock it on the inside."
"One more rush, Albert, and then upstairs."
With a shout Edgar threw himself upon a man who had raised a heavy
pole-axe, and cut the fellow down. Then, as the man fell, Edgar flung
himself on him, and hurled him against those behind, while Albert at
the same moment ran an opponent through the body. Then, turning, they
sprang up the stairs. On the landing above the girl was standing at an
open door. They ran in and closed it, and then piled articles of
furniture against it.
"There is no occasion for that," she said; "this way."
The room was heavily panelled, and one of the panels was standing open.
They followed her into this.
"Push it back," she said; "it is too heavy for me." The panel was
indeed of great weight, the wood being backed with brick, the whole ran
on rollers, but Edgar had no difficulty in closing it.
"Thank God, and you, gentlemen, that we are in safety. The keenest eye
could not see that the panel opens, and, being backed with brick, it
gives no hollow sound when struck. They will search in vain for it."
Taking a lamp from the ground, she led the way down a narrow flight of
stairs. By the depth to which they descended Edgar judged when they
reached the bottom that they must be below the level of the cellars.
She opened a door, and entered an apartment some twenty feet square. It
was lighted by four candles standing on a table. In one corner a woman
lay on a pallet; two women servants, sobbing with terror and
excitement, stood beside her, while a tall, elderly man rose to meet
them.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I don't know how to thank you. You must think it
cowardly that I did not descend to share your peril; but it was
necessary that I should go to the storey above that you reached to
bring down my wife, who, as you see, is grievously sick. Her two maids
were very nearly distraught with terror, and, if left to themselves,
would never have carried their mistress below. Having had some
experience of popular tumults in Bruges, my native town, I had this
hiding-place constructed when I first came here twenty years ago. Now,
to whom am I indebted for our safety?"
Edgar introduced his companion and himself.
"Then you are not, as would seem by your attire, merchants like myself?"
"No, sir. We but put on this attire over our own in order to be able to
traverse the streets without interruption. May I ask how it is that
your daughter was alone and unattended in the streets?"
"She was not unattended. She had with her my servant, a Flemish lad,
who has but recently come over. He speaks no English, and not knowing
the tongue, could not be sent out alone. My wife was taken worse this
morning, and the leech not having sent the medicine he promised, my
daughter, thinking that there could be no danger to a young girl, went
to get it, and as the servant was dressed in English fashion, and would
not be called upon to speak, I thought that she could pass unnoticed
did they fall in with any party of the rioters."
"So we should have done, father," the girl said, "had we not met a band
headed by Nicholas Bierstadt."
"The villain!" the merchant exclaimed. "So it was he who led the party
here. When these troubles are over I will see that he obtains his
deserts."
"He has obtained them already, sir," Edgar said, "for I slew the knave
at the first thrust."
"He was my clerk, the son of a man of some influence at Bruges. He was
well recommended to me, and came over here to learn the business and
the language, with the intention of going into trade for himself. It
was not long before I came to dislike his ways, and when, a fortnight
since, he asked me for the hand of my daughter, I repulsed him, telling
him that in the first place, she was too young to think of marriage,
and that, in the second, I liked him not, and would never give my
consent to her having him, and lastly, that she liked him as little as
I did. He answered insolently, and I then expelled him from the house,
when he threatened me that I should erelong regret my conduct. I gave
the fellow no further thought, and did not know where he bestowed
himself. Doubtless he was waiting to see whether this rabble would
reach London and what would come of it, and when they entered doubtless
he endeavoured to gratify his hatred by leading some of them hither.
And now, Joanna, tell me what befell you."
"We went safely to the leech's, father, and I got the medicine from
him. He made many apologies, but said that he had heard so much of the
doings of the rioters that he thought it best to stay indoors, and of
course he had not heard that mother was taken worse. We had come
half-way back when we fell in with a party of the rioters. Methinks
they would have said naught, but Bierstadt, whom I had not noticed,
suddenly grasped me by the arm, saying, 'This is the daughter of the
Fleming to whose house I am taking you, one of the chief oppressors of
the poor.' Johann struck him in the face, and as he loosened his hold
of me I darted away. Looking back, I saw Johann on the ground, and the
mob round him were hacking at him with their weapons. This gave me a
start, and I ran, but just as I reached the door Bierstadt overtook and
seized me; then this gentleman, who was passing, struck him a stout
buffet in the face, and without waiting to see more I hastened to give
you the alarm."
"Providence surely sent you to the spot, gentlemen," the Fleming said;
"here we are absolutely safe. During the last two days I have brought
down a provision of food, wine, and water sufficient to last us for a
month, and long before that methinks this rascaldom will have been
suppressed."
"There is no doubt of that, sir; my only fear is that when they cannot
discover where you are concealed, they will fire the house."
"Against that I have provided," the Fleming said. He opened the door.
"See you that stone slab, above a foot in thickness; it looks solid,
but it is not. It is worked by a counterpoise, and when it is lowered,"
and touching a spring, it began to descend, thus closing the stairway,
"not only would it baffle them did they find the entrance above, but it
would prevent any fire reaching here. The staircase is of stone, and
above us is a strongly arched cellar, which would resist were the whole
house to fall upon it."