The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. At length, however, by dealing blows right and left with their swords, and even inflicting severe cuts on the foremost of the rabble, the soldiers managed to gain a clear course, and to drive back the assailants; who, as they retreated behind the barricades, shouted in tones of defiance, "To Tyburn! to Tyburn!" The object of all this tumult, meanwhile, never altered his position, but sat back in the cart, as if resolved not to make even a struggle to regain his liberty. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late.
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