Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. ‘What Frenchman would that be, missie? We ain’t let no one escape. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again. “Why destroy me, child? There are so many secrets I 231 could tell you.
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