Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. “If any one should know——you should! He was your friend. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. He's passed through some rough mental torture. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. "Here, Caliban, go and fasten his padlock. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically.
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