"Nothing whatever," rejoined the thief-taker, coldly. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. Splendidly. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. Like carpenter, like chips. You have grown into my life. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. I hope you will always remember——” Annabel held out her hands with a little cry of protest. ‘I never met a rat what wandered about the place with a lantern, I didn’t,’ grumbled the old lodgekeeper aggrievedly. He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. This is one of the late E. Let this be a caution to you in future—with whom, and about what you deal. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said.
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