That is the dreadful truth. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. Made me fetch up Trodger and a couple more men, and together we searched his luggage and got hold of every single paper the man possessed. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. Nobody will ever know what the fleas thought. "We're merely about to discharge our duty by apprehending a rebel.
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