Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Later on—well then the time may come. It was Celeste’s idea. Enveloped in a large cloak, Sir Rowland stalked into the room, and took the seat assigned him; while the Jew, who received a private signal from Jonathan, set down the link near the entrance of the Well Hole, and, having made fast the door, crept behind one of the cases. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. Too late she realised that Emile was not trying to escape. He gave glimpses of possibilities.
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