“Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. ’ ‘Alone, miss?’ ‘Certainly alone. An extra pair of gym clothes materialized within fractions of a second. Where I am in error, you can set me right. Mischief bubbled up in her. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. " "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly.
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