"His shin may need rubbing. Lucy knocked again. . ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape. . ” “How? Show me. ” Annabel pulled up her veil. He blushed furiously; it was not what he had expected to hear. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside.
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