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There are way-stations—even terminals. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. Some of these persons were examining the spot where the spike had been cut off; others the spike itself, now considered a remarkable object; and all were marvelling how Jack could have possibly squeezed himself through such a narrow aperture, until it was explained to them by Mr. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. So she approached him with sandwiches. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. You won't have him long.

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