"Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. Wood. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. The Reverend Henry Dolby performed the cermony, and his wife and daughter were witnesses. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. The very blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it had been left.
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