’ ‘So I see. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. She paused for a moment. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. The next moment he was by her side. I put my foot down like—like adamant. . . With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men.
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