Earles drew out his cheque book. Practically. “I am going to America. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. And, now, to find a messenger. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. His heart hammered in his chest. " "Make an effort, Madam," cried Mrs. \" 66 She commented as more doors slammed. . " Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails.
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