I shall quit this roof to-morrow. ’ ‘Woof!’ uttered the sergeant, jumping back. You could not have aided and assisted us more effectively by trying to drown yourself in the sea. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. But first, we’ve got to secure the convent. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked.
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