“Well,” she said, “good-night, father. . He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster.
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