“What do you think you are doing?” He asked. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. ‘But tell me this instead. I am aware that you ran away from there, but—’ ‘Certainly I ran away,’ she said, meeting his gaze with defiance in her own. ‘What we have to find out is whether or not the wretched female is in fact Lord Charvill’s granddaughter.
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