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” In the car, John was wound up. "Patience Kite has lured him to Enfield on a false scent after Blueskin. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. But that brought Mrs. Wood. "Enschede!" he called. "Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Hollander, shaking his head in reply;—"very bad —very. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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