CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. But sadly, at Lullingstone we are too far off the coast to be of use. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. "Caught!" shouted the head-turnkey.
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