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He just walked in a few minutes ago. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. Not that there had ever been any hope of that. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. All the linen was new and stamped with the mark of Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co. He could not doubt it. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon.
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