Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. Kneebone, his impertinence was copied to the letter by Solomon. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture.
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