" "Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope," interposed Sheppard. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. "What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof.
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