Courtlaw sat with folded arms. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. He took about five minutes. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. ” “Clear out?” cried Hetty.
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