“Been sitting on the doorstep almost for two hours. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside.
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