"Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. Wood; "that's the surest way!" "No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which he placed his back. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. All this muddle to placate his conscience! "Here—quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. He was followed, more leisurely, by the prisoners; and, during their ascent, Jack Sheppard made a second attempt to escape by ducking suddenly down, and endeavouring to pass under his conductor's legs. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant.
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