"He has fallen by the hand of Blueskin, who brought me these packets. ” He went to the window and fidgeted with the blind, looking out to where the tree-tops of Regent’s Park showed distantly over the houses. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. They were terrible, horrible people. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment.
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