All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. But there was a face pressed to the glass. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. A hansom stopped a little way off. " Ah Cum smiled. . ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out.
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