" "You trusted too much to your own skill, Jack," rejoined Thames. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. . Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. "You mistake,—you are mine. "It is an ordinary wedding," he added; "some shopkeeper's daughter. I wanted the time with you. I'll try to fill in the gaps. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. You are in danger.
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