The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. No more scuffling. We went our ways. From this peaceful scene Jack's eye fell upon Jonathan, who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder tree, was evidently watching him. “You are an impostor. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. "Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. .
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