’ Then she frowned. “Cheer up, Annabel. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. I came to London to look for you, and somehow the figure I saw in my dreams had got mixed up with you. “But perhaps I want to confess them. Never any doubt of it. "At present under the care of his preserver—one Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought up. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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