“Oh, Lucy. I must go perhaps in all the rooms. "Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on.
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