Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. While he was dragged along in the manner just described, Thames looked around to ascertain, if possible, where he was; for he did not put entire faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to the round-house, and apprehensive of something even worse than imprisonment. "But it wants something here. That’s got his nerves to rags. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. “Please search everywhere,” she said. “Believe me, I know.
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