Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. “Holcroft,” he remarked, “in bald language, and with the usual limitations of his clouded intellect, has still given some slight expression to the consternation which I believe I may say is general amongst us. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. "Austin will stare," thought Jack, "when he comes here in the morning. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicion of the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was more than usually rigorous in his search; and having carefully examined the prisoners and finding nothing to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied. ruin you.
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