"I could," replied Thames. He dropped the key on the counterpane. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss.
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