The bridge was open. I waited for her at the back. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. Well, if she survives the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil, fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned in this strange affair. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. I sent a message straight.
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