‘Dare I guess at the reason for your sudden interest in émigrés, Gerald?’ ‘Lucilla,’ barked Hilary warningly. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph.
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