" "Not in the least, Sir," replied Tom, in a drowsy tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed them. Kneebone were here to protect me!" "If it is Jonathan," rejoined Wood, "it is very well for Mr. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present.
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