With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. I’ve no name for it yet. \"You're a shoo in. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. He held down the light, and a moment afterwards beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland.
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