"Where?" she cried. So I dare say I was christened Jack. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. Brendon felt his arm seized. A glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the prisoner's escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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