Thus they pursued
their journey by circuitous and winding roads; preserving, except when
they halted to take breath, or to quarrel about the best way of reaching
London, pretty good order and tolerable silence.
In the mean time, Dolly--beautiful, bewitching, captivating little
Dolly--her hair dishevelled, her dress torn, her dark eyelashes wet with
tears, her bosom heaving--her face, now pale with fear, now crimsoned
with indignation--her whole self a hundred times more beautiful in
this heightened aspect than ever she had been before--vainly strove to
comfort Emma Haredale, and to impart to her the consolation of which she
stood in so much need herself. The soldiers were sure to come; they must
be rescued; it would be impossible to convey them through the streets
of London when they set the threats of their guards at defiance, and
shrieked to the passengers for help. If they did this when they
came into the more frequented ways, she was certain--she was quite
certain--they must be released. So poor Dolly said, and so poor Dolly
tried to think; but the invariable conclusion of all such arguments was,
that Dolly burst into tears; cried, as she wrung her hands, what would
they do or think, or who would comfort them, at home, at the Golden Key;
and sobbed most piteously.
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