"Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. These things are difficult. ” He raised his hand, and they saw that he was holding a small revolver. ‘You mean—’ ‘Hilary!’ Lucy turned excited eyes back to Alderley. Aware that not a moment was to be lost, if he meant to render any effectual assistance to the child, he ceased shouting, and defending himself in the best way he could from the attacks of Rowland, by whom he was closely pressed, forced his way, in spite of all opposition, to Davies, and dealt him a blow on the head with such good will that, had it not been for the intervention of the wall, the ruffian must have been prostrated. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. All that is jolly and as it should be.
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