Why, there's another party on the stair-head inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass! they appear in a greater hurry than any on us. Come back with me to-night. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible. Gold-handled, too. “Anna!” she repeated. She rolled to one side. Perhaps Sir John is going to take the other one under his wing. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do. Recovery impossible.
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