He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. At least for one moment, it was. ” He looked at Lucy. The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. ' It is signed JACK SHEPPARD. Do sit down, dear boy. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way.
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