" "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. " "Devil take the key!" ejaculated Wood. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. You must tell me what it all means. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. I rarely set foot in London these days. For a long time he stared at the empty doorway.
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