And now YOU’RE on the war-path. Strange gurgle-like noises emanated from the crypt. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor.
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