Mr. The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling to avoid the fury of the wind. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. ‘Rather would I die than fall in with such a plan. "'This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt to apprehend me.
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