This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. "I cannot sign it," returned Trenchard. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far.
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