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" "Both are dead," observed the knight, gloomily. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. Then came the great day. But what did he know beyond these facts? Nothing, clearly. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. These things were common knowledge among the bon ton, who were generously welcoming these unfortunate escapees. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel.
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