“Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked. CHAPTER VII. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. Sometimes it seemed that she would never recover it. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. He remembered that, before he attempted to dislodge the stone, he had placed the child in a cavity of the pier, which the granite mass had been intended to fill. Mr.
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