"I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have reference to so humble a person as Mrs. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. The young man looked at her. “I do not know you,” she said coldly. Ennison paused by the little gate. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said. END OF THE SECOND EPOCH. Huge trees obscured the view of it.
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