It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. The light disappeared. Say I will come to him. “Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir John,” he said, holding out a Daily Telegraph. "Be it so," replied Jack. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?" With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. Several men and women were piled there like wood, dead, horribly gored. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. CHAPTER XIII.
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