"Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. He wanted to talk with the patient, test him variously; and he wanted to be alone with him while he put these tests. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. Her thought spoke aloud. Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants they could not discover a single trace.
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