Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. You were probably robbed in Hong-Kong. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. Kneebone smiled assent. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. "Devil!" cried Jack; "that blow shall cost you your life.
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