Come to take leave. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. \" It was a lie: Lucy ate one forced meal a day, supper. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin.
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