It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. Austin, who had been evidently schooled by Wild, maintained a profound silence on this head. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. He urged his conductors to a quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of the little prison.
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