"It's all up, master," groaned Ben, "nothin' short of a merracle can save us. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. Slipshod; follow me. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. Before she knew what had happened, Gosse turned suddenly, and vaulted one of the pews into the gap behind.
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