He proceeded to the deck, where Ruth and McClintock were waiting for him by the ladder. This key," he added, taking it from the boy, "was purloined from me by your father, Jack. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. Leave me my blanket! I'm very cold at night. ” Sir John’s head bent lower and lower. He well knows that but two lives—those of Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland Trenchard,—stand between you and the vast possessions of the family. ‘Would you like me to enquire for your mystery lady, Gerald? I know the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme quite well. But, it can't be helped.
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