A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesitation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers, who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially lessened the distance between them. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. Gentlemen,—Mr. She will sail, at early dawn to-morrow, for Rotterdam.
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