The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below. As usual Brendon lit the candles, and Sydney dragged out the spiritlamp and set it going. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. The expression was wholly different. "Give them what you please. Shotbolt thinks he has a scheme that can't fail," interposed Austin; "but he wishes to know whether you'll be as good as your word, in respect to the great reward you offered for Jack's capture. ” “Such independence,” he answered quickly, “is a vice.
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