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I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. She fidgeted and looked away. The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before.
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