CHAPTER XV. " "Force shall not make me yours till Jack is free," replied the widow, resolutely. Save us!" he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her agitation. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. Almost at the same moment the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice.
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