The lines about his mouth gradually softened. "He's about to cross the river. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. .
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