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Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. “I do not know. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. But all that could be ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time before in the direction of London. Gwen and Alice were fantastically friendly, which seemed to annoy him, and Mrs.
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