Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. . Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace. "In the devil's name, is that you, Jack!" ejaculated Kneebone. ’ ‘I will not. "I will," answered the prisoner. I am already too much flattered that you should have given me your confidence. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her.
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