houses that were to be set on fire, and would,
it was supposed, arouse the people. When
Thistlewood had written three of the bills, he
said he was tired, and did not know what was
the matter with him; he could write no more.
Another man then wrote a fourth. In the mean
time, Ings, with butcherly eagerness for blood,
was preparing himself for action. He put on a
black belt to hold two pistols, a belt round his
shoulder for a cutlass, and two large canvas
haversacks, in which, he swore, he intended
to carry the heads of Lord Castlereagh and
Lord Sidmouth, before setting them on pikes
and carrying them before the captured cannon.
When he had done all this, he viewed
himself complacently, and said, with professional
jocosity:

"I have not got my steel—I am not
complete; but never mind."

He then drew a large, heavy, broad butcher's
knife from his pocket, and showed the new-
ground edge and the handle bound round with
dark waxed thread, to prevent his hand
slipping, as he said, "when he should be at
work." With that knife he swore he would
cut off the heads "of Castlereagh and the rest
as he came at them."

In the momentary absence of the dreaded
Thistlewood and Brunt, a man named Palin
said he hoped all present knew what they had
met there for, and had considered whether
the assassination would be approved by the
country, and would really draw the people to
their help. Just then Brunt returned. Observing
an alteration in the men's countenances, and
being told the reason, he said:

"This is not the place. Go with me to Edgeware-
road. There you shall know what you are
going about, and all that goes along with me I
will take care shall have a drop of something to
drink to put them in spirits."

The conspirators then armed themselves, put
on their great-coats to conceal their weapons,
and started for the rendezvous.

In the stable the men began at once to clean
the arms which were lying on a bench in the
loft, and to ferrule the pikes. The non-arrival
of Tidd and his contingent, however, alarmed
Thistlewood, and produced confusion among
the conspirators, as they already knew that Lord
Sidmouth had had intimation of their meetings
in Brook's Market.

Ings, seeing his comrades' faces lengthen,
began to stamp and swear, and tear his hair.

"If you begin to talk of dropping the
concern now," he said, "I will either cut my throat,
or shoot myself."

Brunt said there was no occasion for
uneasiness; he would forfeit his existence if Tidd
was not forthcoming. Thistlewood kept quiet,
and said:

"For God's sake do not think of dropping
the business now; if you do, it will turn out a
second Despard job." Then he looked round
and said: "You seem to think there are not
men sufficient." (He cast up the number.)
"Let us see, there are eighteen here and two
below, that makes twenty, that is quite
sufficient; suppose there to be sixteen servants in
Lord Harrowby's house, they are not armed;
we shall go prepared, and it will not take us,
from entering the house and coming out, more
than ten minutes."

Fourteen men were to execute the murders,
and six left to guard the servants. As the
fourteen men were volunteering and being called out,
Tidd entered, and Thistlewood, probably suspecting
him to be a waverer, fixed his eyes sternly
upon him; but, seeing Adams watching him,
he turned away directly. Adams, going up to
Tidd, said to him tentatively:

"Don't you think this is a pretty set out?
Do you think they will be able to do this
thing?"

Tidd replied in an ominous whisper, "Never."

Brunt had just produced a gin-bottle from
his pocket to prime the assassins, when Adams
heard somebody in the stable below.

Yes, the toils had long slowly been gathering
round these desperate wretches. Into that loft,
as into a full rat-pit, the sharp-toothed terriers
of the law were ready to dash. In other rooms
besides that of Cato-street cutlasses had been
that morning ground, and pistol-flints fitted.
The Bow-street officers had already been lurking
about the Horse and Groom public-house, and
had secured a pike-stave left by one of the
conspirators. About half-past eight, twelve of
them had met by appointment near John-
street, and moved on together towards the well-
marked stable. In the mean time, Lieutenant
Fitzclarence, with a picquet of the Coldstream
Guards, had been sent by Mr. Birnie, the police
magistrate, to wait in John-street till they
were called. Ruthven (a tall sandy Scotchman),
Smithers, Ellice, and others of the
patrol, found the stable door watched by two or
three men. The man of colour, Davidson, and
Ings were guarding the stairs, with blunderbusses
on their shoulders and swords by their
sides. Ruthven instantly ordered these men to
be secured, and mounted the ladder, followed
by Ellice, Smithers, and three or four others.

There were about five-and-twenty men in the
room, eating bread and cheese and drinking
porter, or selecting arms from a long carpenter's
bench which stood close by the wall. Just at
that juncture, Thistlewood, hearing a noise, and
some one calling, "Hallo! Show a light!"
took a candle and looked down the stairs to see
who was coming, and on seeing that there was
a surprise he put the candle back on the bench,
seized a sword, and with three or four others
retreated stealthily to the further of the inner
rooms—the one that had a window looking out
into Cato-street. At that moment, one of the
men seized below called out to warn his
comrades:

"Look out there, above!"

At the same time, two of the constables, at
first almost unnoticed, appeared at the top of
the ladder, and presenting their pistols, said:

"Hallo, is anybody in the room? Here is a
pretty nest of you."