The light!—the light!" Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him. I killed him, Nigel. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. " "Cowardly villain!" cried Jack, as the Jew, obeying the orders of his principal, snatched up the weapon of the murdered man, and assailed him. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness.
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