"When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. "Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing. “Damned Rascal!” he said. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it.
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