The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. “I don’t know. Has he given you the tools?" "He has," replied Bess, producing the handkerchief. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. The stoppage had materially lessened the distance between him and his pursuers, who now amounted to more than a hundred persons, many of whom carried lanterns and links. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. The Goopes were the oddest little couple conceivable, following a fruitarian career upon an upper floor in Theobald’s Road. .
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