Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent a hand through habit as much as through pity. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself.
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