He made a note of the idea and stored it away. . " The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared. The action did not pass unnoticed by Sheppard. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. Mild, you know, and boon. Confidence in himself would strengthen him. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose.
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