" Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. Fatigued by his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no means—though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot—a match for his foes, who were fast gaining upon him. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. "As like as life. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. It was a dead calm.
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