" "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. ‘But if there is one, how in the world did this mystery lady of yours know of it?’ ‘That, Lucy, is precisely the point that has been exercising my mind,’ Gerald said, turning his eyes once more to the group of French exiles in the alcove. " And she flung herself between them. Oh God! pardon me. " CHAPTER XIX. "I was at Tyburn.
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