" "Probably Mr. ” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. "We'll give them the slip yet, and hang that butcherly thief-taker upon his own gibbet. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor.
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