Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. ’ ‘That is not your affair. "Sir Cecil is no more. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before.
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