"Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. Come with me to the Condemned Hold directly, and, if I find my fears confirmed, I'll—" He was here interrupted by the sudden entrance of the black, who rushed precipitately into the room, letting fall the heavy bunch of keys in his fright. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. Hurry. " Other towers and spires—St. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment.
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