By the side of her plate was a small key. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. " "There you're wrong, Mr. "But you've done well to trust me. Where is Sir Rowland?" "In the library, your ladyship. ” He repeated several times that he would trust her, though it remained obscure just exactly where the trust came in. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. There was hope for me then. \"Is there something desperately wrong with your house?\" \"There is nothing wrong with our house.
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