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"Now, then, Saint Giles!" interposed Sheppard, "are we to be kept here all night?" "Eh day!" exclaimed Sharples: "wot new-fledged bantam's this?" "One that wants to go to roost," replied Sheppard. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Well, it had to happen somewhen. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. I sha'n't cry any more. And where was that devil? Had the soldiers found him? She could not think he had escaped, for she had only just made it into the passage as they entered the library.
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