"And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Horrible details recurred to her. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows.
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