The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. But the cases were not identical. ’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. Her body went into spasm.
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