" "Then, most probably, it was the widow Sheppard," answered Blueskin, sulkily. “You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained.
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