At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. If he got her outside, surely the soldiers would see her and intervene. I am sorry to seem to disobey you, but I am. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. The door popped open with a sigh. "What's that?" demanded McClintock.
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