Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. it’s open. ” Anna hesitated, and then held out the letter. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. "You are my prisoner, Jack. You will not have to wait long for the information. " "Make it positive," was the brisk reply. But it means no end of a row. They don’t count, and I don’t care. Give up your lonely hours of work here.
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