“I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled.
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