"I'm sorry," she said. " "Pray come to the point, Sir," said Mrs. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. " "Comfort yourself, then, Aliva. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. Spurlock was no longer a man before this instinct; he was a child in trouble.
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