’ He turned to the lodgekeeper behind him, whose shocked fear had given place to a direful frown. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning.
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