Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. The child fell within a short distance of Darrell, who, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction, and caught it before it sank. Annabel, I was lying. Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. I will always think of you with fondness, no matter what.
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