Annabel shook her head. Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. "Rather a devil," groaned her son, "to have done this. 4. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. He can't be far off. As it is, we've only a couple of ducks—and they were intended for you. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. But one of these days everything will click back into place.
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