"Wasn't he in some way connected with the Jacobite plots?" "He was," replied Thames. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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