Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. . "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer.
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