‘It did not seem to me that it was so. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. It would send business elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous that one could afford to lose a single guest. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. The peculiar appearance of the sky was not without some influence in awakening these terrors. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the fore.
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