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While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him. In this way he crossed one or two public gardens and a bowling-green,—the neighbourhood of Clerkenwell then abounded in such places of amusement,—passed the noted Ducking Pond, where Black Mary had been frequently immersed; and, striking off to the left across the fields, arrived in a few minutes at his destination.
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