His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. I learned the trick of the place from one Paul Groves, who used to live here, and who contrived the machine. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. I would like to talk to you about this—soon. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn.
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