Before she knew what had happened, Gosse turned suddenly, and vaulted one of the pews into the gap behind. Surely she could ignore him. She was listed for the raid—she was informed it was to be a raid upon the House of Commons, though no particulars were given her—and told to go alone to 14, Dexter Street, Westminster, and not to ask any policeman to direct her. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Even now I do not understand. I am entirely English, as you know well. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. Accordingly, having armed himself with various weapons, including a stout oaken staff then ordinarily borne by the watch, and put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the expedition. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this.
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