” The corners of her mouth rose in a weak smile and she gave him a wink. She took hand cannon and began to arm it. “Cheer up, Annabel. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth. To return.
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