"He thwarted my schemes twice. Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. The Northern Ocean keeps a secret better than the Thames, Sir Rowland. '—'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at the Friars, for that matter. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. Conceiving the opportunity too favourable to be lost, Jack sprang suddenly over the hedge, and before the man, who was floundering on the ground with one foot in the stirrup, could extricate himself from his embarrassing position, secured his pistols, which he drew from the holsters, and held them to his head. The black, meantime, began to ply his hammer, and speedily unriveted the chains. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear.
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