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I borrowed forty pounds from Mr. Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. CHAPTER XXI. Sheppard. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. "Not as I loved mine. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. ‘Can’t see a thing. "Tush!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, angrily. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed.

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