This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. "I shan't sleep a wink while Jack Sheppard's in the house. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner room. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. But we waste time. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. ” The brutality of his first astonishment was evaporating.
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