He shuddered. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. Apparently he did not see his recent companions. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distributing the Marquis's donation, affected to throw the remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the steps, unlocked the door. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. ‘She knows what she’s up against.
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