Lucy saw that perhaps she had been attracted to Martin all along. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. At length, however, by dealing blows right and left with their swords, and even inflicting severe cuts on the foremost of the rabble, the soldiers managed to gain a clear course, and to drive back the assailants; who, as they retreated behind the barricades, shouted in tones of defiance, "To Tyburn! to Tyburn!" The object of all this tumult, meanwhile, never altered his position, but sat back in the cart, as if resolved not to make even a struggle to regain his liberty. “Come with me. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant.
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