“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. But be very careful not to let him know. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. He had a peculiar way of stepping in, in a parry; knew his arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and never let his opponent escape. " "Help me through at all hazards, Poll," cried Jack, straining towards the opening. Now I’ll tell you what I propose. It was Annabel who spoke. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. “Anna!” she repeated.
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