’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. She could not feel her own body. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. "I knew his poor mother, and for her sake I'll not see this done," cried John Dump. "I am not to be deceived.
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