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The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable impressions in her mind. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. "At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed.
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