Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. It was locked. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. "Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil.
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