The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. And now tell me what has happened to my poor mother?" "Ever since your last capture, and Thames's mysterious disappearance, she has been dreadfully ill," replied Winifred; "so ill, that each day was expected to be her last. What was to hinder me, if I had been so inclined, from directing them to your retreat?" "Enough," replied Darrell. I would have heard her.
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