The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. It was a grand life. This was his humiliation as well as hers. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. When he returned, it was always the same. I am with you through thick and thin, Nigel. “Your name, I believe, is——” “Pellissier,” Anna answered. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne. Very well. He was aroused from his slumber, about six o'clock, by the return of Abraham Mendez, who not choosing to confess that Jack had eluded his vigilance, contended himself with stating that he had kept watch till daybreak, when he had carefully searched the field, and, finding no trace of him, had thought it better to return. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave.
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