She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. Why hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this rather pathetic derelict on his way? CHAPTER XV Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms swirling on the surface—whims and fancies which in normal times would never have risen above sub-consciousness. I tell you, if you do not help me this instant, you will find that your major he will very likely shoot you. ” Annabel laughed gaily.
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