While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. Meanwhile, after a consultation between Mr. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. ‘This is not love, Marthe. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. Stanley determined to improve the occasion. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. A furious attack was made on Jonathan, who, though he defended himself like a lion, was desperately wounded, and would inevitably have perished if he had not been protected by the guards, who were obliged to use both swords and fire-arms upon the mob in his defence.
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