"As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. " "And all the time you loved her?"—appalled. "You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. From none of these could Jack ascertain what had become of Thames, or learn any particulars concerning the family at Dollis Hill, or of his mother. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood.
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