CHAPTER I. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr. Do you want to kill us both? Stop the thing. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy stone dropping on his head or feet,—regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted by some of the jailers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell. .
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