Old London Bridge. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. "After all," he said, "this is the safest weapon. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. Then it dawned. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand.
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