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Kneebone assured her that he did say so; and, as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand very warmly under the table. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. ‘I’m on your side.
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