It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. " "Nonsense," returned Jonathan gruffly. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. Wood. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.
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