" CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. She colored faintly. I didn’t understand before that letter. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. ‘That is good. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly.
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