But then the features changed. "No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business. . "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. Here was an instrument which might be of the greatest service to him in accomplishing his design. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest.
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