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" "To be sure he is," acquiesced Blueskin. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. "He comes!" cried a thousand voices, and the shout ascended to Smithfield, descended to Snow Hill, and told those who were assembled on Holborn Hill that Sheppard had left the prison. And, after all, a fine clear sky of bright colors is the signal to come out of hiding and rejoice and go on with life. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked.
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