With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. Pipes were lighted; and Mr. Send for Mr. Wood. "You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder. Aided by an individual, who was acquainted with a secret outlet from the tenement, Darrell escaped. Montague Hill.
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