Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. I must bless him before I die. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. “As my lady wills. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. They don’t now. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested.
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