"I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. He savored the last solo, the coda. Dashing through the open door, he crossed the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court on the opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a minute, baffling all pursuit. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. On the right of the postern against the wall was affixed a small grating, sustaining the debtor's box; and any pleasure which the passerby might derive from contemplating the splendid structure above described was damped at beholding the pale faces and squalid figures of the captives across the bars of its strongly-grated windows. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. The Supper at Mr. CHAPTER I.
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