” Meddoes turned round from the table on which he was practising shots and shrugged his shoulders. ’ If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. CHAPTER XV. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. The Lord have mercy upon you!" This ceremony concluded, the calvacade was again put in motion. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in the rocks.
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