‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Mr. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks.
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