“If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. ” “Then, whoever he may be, he is not Meysey Hill,” Courtlaw said. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. '—'What is it, Mint?' asked all three. The night was now profoundly dark. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. "Some dreadful deed is about to be committed, which I may perhaps prevent," muttered Jack to himself. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715.
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