"If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. Besides, she had admitted her identity. ‘Think it’s worth getting some sort of light and following her down there?’ asked Roding. But he had scarcely advanced a step, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's head.
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