CHAPTER XI.
TWO LIVES.
Only half of Moore's activity and resolution had been seen in his defence of the mill: he shewed the other half (and a terrible half it was) in the indefatigable, the relentless assiduity with which he pursued the leaders of the riot. The mob, the mere followers, he let alone: perhaps an innate sense of justice told him that men misled by false counsel, and goaded by privations, are not fit objects of vengeance, and that he who would visit an even violent act on the bent head of suffering, is a tyrant, not a judge. At all events, though he knew many of the number, having recognised them during the latter part of the attack when day began to dawn, he let them daily pass him on street and road without notice or threat.
The leaders he did not know. They were strangers: emissaries from the large towns. Most of these were not members of the operative class:
