" "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. His perseverance was amply rewarded. Someone bounded up the stairs, which groaned from the strain, unmistakably Mike. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before.
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