"Oh, sir," she cried, "I am Johanna's friend, Miss Wilmot, and this—this gent won't leave me and my cousin here alone."
The gent made an effort to escape, but Ben caught him by the hinder part of his apparel, and held him tight.
"Is this him?"
"Yes—yes."
"Oh dear no—oh dear no, my good sir. It's that fellow there, with the white hat. There he goes, up Chancery Lane. My dear sir, you are quite mistaken; I wanted to protect the young lady, and as for the lad, bless his heart. I—oh dear, it wasn't me."
Still holding the gent by the first grasp he had taken of him, Ben suddenly crossed the road to where a parish pump stood, at the corner of Bell Yard, and holding him under the spout with one hand, he worked the handle with the other, despite the shrieks and groans of his victim, who in a few moments was rendered so limp and wet, that when Ben let him go, he fell into the sink below the pump, and there lay, until some small boys began pelting him. During the confusion and laughter of the bystanders, Arabella and Johanna rapidly retreated towards the City again, for they thought Ben might insist upon escorting them, and that, in such a case, it was possible enough the disguise of Johanna, good as it was, might not suffice to save her from the knowledge of one so well acquainted with her.
"Let us cross, Arabella," she said. "Let us cross, if it be but for one moment, to hear what the subject of the conversation between Todd and that man is."
"If you wish it, Johanna."
"I do, I do."
They crossed, and once again passed the shop of Todd, when they heard the man say—