"Come, come," said Walworth, observing my condition, "you mustn't let yourself go like this. Let me give you a drop of spirit."
He took a flask from his pocket and poured me out half a tumbler of whiskey. I drank it off neat and, I am prepared to assert, did not taste it any more than if it had been so much water. He offered a little to Janet, who sat in the corner in a listening attitude, and when she refused it, screwed on the top again and replaced it in his pocket.
Again we sat in dumb, almost terrified expectancy. Times out of number I thought I heard the van roll into the yard, and sprang to my feet, only to find that it was some cart passing in the street. Its non-arrival in the time we had given it found me almost too frightened to think coherently. I conjured up all sorts of catastrophes in my mind. I saw the horses fall, the driver tumble from his box, I saw our policemen suspected and the plot found out. Then suddenly in the middle of it all I heard the roll of wheels, they came closer and closer, then they stopped, the gates were thrown open, and a second or two later the van rolled into the yard. Before I could have counted ten the guard was down from his perch, the gates were closed again, the door of the van was opened, and Alie ran down the steps. Then, forgetting those about us, I rushed out and took her in my arms. But Walworth would have no delay.
"Come inside quickly," he said. "There is not a second to lose! They may be after us already!"
We followed him into the house, and then for the first time I saw that Alie had dressed herself in the van
