“Mr. “Hi. His face darkened. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark.
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