All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. "Were I in your place," said Smith, "I should be apprehensive of Wild, because he's a declared enemy. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign.
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