As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. He kept that, but the rest. He carries with him something that will mark him anywhere—the girl.
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