“Heavens!” she exclaimed. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. A few words passed between him and the thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the party—with the exception of Quilt, who was left on shore —embarked within the wherry, which was pushed from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream—for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen. Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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