When the hero finally did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. All concerned in the dark transaction must have perished. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply.
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