There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. “Why?” He inquired. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. ’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons 429 XXVI. ” Lucy reassured.
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