She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. He began to think of speeches, very firm, explicit speeches, he would make. “Is Lady Lescelles in?” he asked the butler. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. 3. She was greatly heartened by doing this.
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