" "Mother!" cried Jack, in a broken voice. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. Hoped you'd not be retaken. You see me here, an admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my life. . 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. From time to time, however, he was baffled. ‘Wait for me.
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