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She delighted in frustrating him. No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. His face darkened. " "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing.
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