It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. Leave me behind: I'm not afraid. It was plain that a man of his age could only be interested for one reason alone, yet she felt compelled to at know him a little before the main event. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood. Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged.
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