Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. The reply he received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. "Nothing you can say to the contrary will convince me that you have not been accessory to his flight.
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