Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. “Indeed, I must implore you to return. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. " "You believe—you know it," replied Jonathan, fixing one of his sternest and most searching glances upon him. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ’ The sword was released to slide back into its scabbard. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing.
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