’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. “Have you ever seen Annabel with him?” she asked. Sheppard, who witnessed this occurrence with dismay, looked timorously at Wood, in expectation of some hint being given as to the course she had better pursue; but, receiving none, for the carpenter was too much agitated to attend to her, she ventured to express a fear that she was intruding. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House 408 XXII. I—listen. This accident rather confirms than checks my purpose. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him.
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