Jack fell on his knees beside her. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. “But—your people!” she gasped. “I am so sorry. You’re trespassing again, and I’ve come to arrest you,’ Gerald said promptly. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. They were just nice. It ought never to have begun. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive.
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