"Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. But Gosse began to drag her towards the door. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. "May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of adressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name. Further on, there were impressions of bloody footsteps along the floor. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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