‘But you know everything now,’ protested Hilary, keeping pace as Gerald took the stairs two at a time. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. The Red Room. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. One night, about this time, just as Austin was about to lock the great gate, Jonathan Wild and his two janizaries entered the Lodge with a prisoner bound hand and foot.
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