The swelling in his limbs had also subsided. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. He smothered a laugh. The weed was all right. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you.
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