while we can,’ Kimble managed, and dragged himself onto his knees. “You poor little girl!” he cried. The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his arms. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. Have we not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de St Erme.
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