“Yes. He had chosen his time well. " "Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland!" murmured his sister, crossing her hands and looking upwards; "you have none on me. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. ’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. The chance it is the same for both. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill.
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