‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. A forgotten island beyond the ship lanes, where that grim Hand would falter and move blindly in its search for him! From what he had read, there wouldn't be much to do; and in the idle hours he could write. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid.
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