"It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. Mrs. Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival. He let go of the girl’s arm. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard.
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