"My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. Amid this tumult, several men armed with tremendous bludgeons, with their faces besmeared with grease and soot, and otherwise disguised, were observed to be urging the populace to attempt a rescue. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house.
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