" Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons to drag the prisoner along. “‘Go it, missie,’ they said; “kick aht!’ “I swore at that policeman—and disgusted him. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. The other lay unconscious in a heap. She had changed into dungarees herself and kept her hair as it was. The coachman answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street; traversed that part of Holborn, which is now called Broad Street, and where two ancient alms-houses were, then, standing in the middle of that great thoroughfare, exactly opposite the opening of Compston Street; and, diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the further end of which Saint Giles's round-house was situated. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows.
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