277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. Here was one of those Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. How Jack Sheppard was again captured.
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