While this was going on, Blueskin, seeing no notice whatever taken of him, coughed loudly and repeatedly. “My God!” he said again. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand and the bolts were undrawn. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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