Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. But McClintock's mind was perceptive, whereas Spurlock's was only dully confused. While the watermen were contending with the eddies occasioned by the fall below the bridge, Jonathan observed a perceptible shudder run through Trenchard's frame. “Admirably, thank you,” Anna answered. Sepulchre's clock struck eight. Amongst others, the watchman whose box was placed against the churchyard wall, near the entrance to Shoe-lane, rushed out and sprung his rattle, which was immediately answered by another rattle from Holborn-bars. Firmly built, as it was, the bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the door, where he stood, holding the light, a horrified spectator of the scene. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. “Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?” “I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. The faithful fellow will never leave me.
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