“Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed. The worst was over now. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. I should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it hadn't been for him. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour.
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