"My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. About the Abbey and Abingdon Street stood the outer pickets and detachments of the police, their attention all directed westward to where the women in Caxton Hall, Westminster, hummed like an angry hive. ’ Roding allowed that he had a point, and followed him as he began to mount the stairs. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. "I had no hand in the affair," replied Jackson, bluntly; "but I know those who had; and could bring forward evidence, if you require it.
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