‘Major Gerald Alderley, I arrest you in the name of the King. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. The Jacobite. Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere.
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