‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. . ’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Rowland, meantime, alarmed by the voices, snatched a torch from his attendant, and holding it over the side of the wherry, witnessed the incident just described. Bring in his comrade," he added, in a whisper to Charcam; "I'll take care of him. " And he raised it in his arms.
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