"There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. The face of the man who lay there was clearly visible. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. “I drink your very good health, Sir John and Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “and I wish you a pleasant journey back to England. A sudden knock at the door startled her. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty face. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained.
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