Trenchard was tempted to examine the contents of some of these cases, but a closer inspection made him recoil from them in disgust. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She knew that the next time he caught her she would not be able to free herself. CHAPTER XXVI.
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