Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs. Wood. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. . "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. ToC The noise of this disturbance did not fail to reach the interior of the prison. "I would have done more, if necessary. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright.
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