“Well,” she achieved at last. This was to pass under the arch, along the narrow ledge of the starling, and, if possible, attain the eastern platform, where, protected by the bridge, he would suffer less from the excessive violence of the gale. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch.
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