It filled her with indefinable fear. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. "I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company. But it sounds too real to be imagined.
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