The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. Diamonds! You shall have all that you can carry away, sacks full if you like. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. But I have never seen America.
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