" Gently she thrust Ruth aside. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. E. Had he found the secret door? Running to the centre, she tried to judge where the knocking came from. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. " "That is what I wanted to know," said Ruth gravely. ’ Melusine bubbled over and warmth rose in Gerald’s chest. ’ ‘Woof!’ Sergeant Trodger’s eyes fairly popped out of his head, and he seized his prisoner’s arm again. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow.
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